Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power
by Jedi Amoira
Summary: A new school, an oblivious brother, an embarrassing crush...impending madness? What's a girl to do? COMPLETE Problem with Chapter ordering fixed.
1. Someone to Talk to

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"  
by Jedi Amoira  
*****************  
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
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Ginny Weasley could scarcely contain her excitement...or her nerves. Not only was she sitting next to Harry Potter at her own familiar breakfast table in The Burrow-with an elbow covered in butter she hastily concealed-she'd just received her letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had been waiting for that letter ever since she could remember, and it had finally come. Hogwarts had always been her brothers' secret club, and now it was official, they were going to let her join.  
  
She was supposed to be thrilled, and she was, but suddenly Ginny was terrified that she wouldn't fit it, that her lessons would be too hard, that the castle would be awful. Being this happy was a sure sign that something awful was about to happen. Fred and George would make fun of her if they knew she was being so superstitious, and they were probably right, but she just couldn't help it. Even if nothing went wrong, Ginny felt guilty reveling in something she knew her parents couldn't really afford. In an attempt to preserve the joy of the moment, Ginny concentrated on reading her booklist as Mum herded them toward the fireplace. The feel of the parchment in her hands was enough to make her fingers tingle.  
  
"Guests first, Harry, dear," Mum said, offering the flower pot. The short, skinny boy stared as if it were about to bite, and Ginny wondered if he'd gotten it confused with Dad's story about the biting tea-kettle.  
  
"Harry's never used Floo Powder before," Ron said suddenly. "I forgot. Sorry, Harry."  
  
Ginny watched Harry as all her family began to offer advice. His eyes got wider with every word, and she wanted to yell at them for confusing him, but he took a handful of powder and squared his shoulders. Ginny felt her admiration for him-fueled by her brothers' stories-raise a notch. She rubbed absently at the butter on her elbow as Harry stepped forward and threw his Floo Powder into the flames. He drew a deep breath. That was a mistake-he began to sputter, but hurried to do as instructed. "Dia-Diagon Alley," he said.  
  
Mum pulled her head up like a hunting dog listening to a sudden noise. She turned sharply to stare at Dad. "What did he say?"  
  
Dad looked back resignedly. "Diagonally."  
  
"I thought he did," Mum said heavily. Ginny's eyes met Ron's and she felt a thrill of fear. Trying to stay calm, she grabbed her own handful of powder. There was nothing to be done but go to Diagon Alley and see if Harry was there.  
  
"Where's Harry?" Fred demanded as she got out of the grate.  
  
Ginny felt her stomach sink. "He's supposed to be here," she said flatly.  
  
George said something quite succinct. Ginny agreed with him, but he was lucky Mum hadn't been around to hear.  
  
The others arrived in record time, and with the organization of a general, Mum soon set them about hunting Harry. All Ginny could do was hold on for dear life as they galloped the length of the long, narrow alley. The whirl of speed fell into sudden relief as she saw Dad and the boys standing in a knot up ahead. They wouldn't have stopped unless they found Harry. An instant later, Mum was sweeping what looked like soot off Harry's clothes with violent energy. Ginny wondered where he had been to get so dirty, but she was so relieved she didn't even care.  
  
"Well, gotta be off," said the tall, wild-haired man who'd been standing with them. Her family apparently knew him, but Ginny didn't recognize him. "See ya at Hogwarts!" With a start, Ginny realized she'd met someone from school. She was relieved he seemed nice. She would have liked to stay with Ron and Harry and the thoughtful-looking girl who must be Hermione, but Mum held firmly to her hand and she was stuck behind. Ginny sighed a little, feeling frustrated. It wasn't always easy being the youngest.  
  
Harry said something she couldn't catch, and she strained to see him as Dad asked sharply, "Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" Harry mumbled an answer. "So he's worried," Dad said in a tone Ginny recognized. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something!"  
  
"You be careful, Arthur" Mum warned, "That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew."  
  
"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" Dad demanded,only to be distracted by Hermione's parents. Dad really loved muggles, so Ginny was a little surprised Ron had never mentioned how much Hermione knew about them, but it probably hadn't occurred to him that it might be the least bit remarkable. Ginny grinned.  
  
"We'll meet at Flourish and Blott's in an hour," Mum said after they'd been to visit the vaults. Ginny had rather enjoyed the cart ride. She stared a little wistfully after Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they disappeared, but she didn't really want to join them. Mum was taking her to get her school supplies.  
  
It would have been exciting to go to Madam Malkin's for her robes and get measured, but Ginny didn't really mind the second-hand shop. It was cluttered and cozy and full of interesting items, and the robes were worn to comfortable softness. The slight suggestion of wear at the edges made her feel less guilty about the possibility of staining them. Ginny always hated messing up new clothes. Besides, it was exciting to have robes, regardless of where they came from. Ginny posed before the mirror like a model from one of Mum's magazines, an idea that made her giggle. The big paper bag the clerk gave her swung cheerfully from her hand as Mum led the way to Ollivander's.  
  
The air inside seemed to tingle, but maybe it was just the dust in the air making Ginny's nose tickle. Ginny looked around, confused to see no one there, but Mum didn't seem to think it was odd. "A pleasure to see you, Miss Weasley," a dry but not unpleasant voice said from somewhere out of sight. "I have to admit I wasn't expecting you...at least not for several years yet." Ginny blinked, and glanced over at Mum in bemusement. Mum's face was flushed, and her lips set; Mum hated the fact that Fred, George, and Ron had to wait for wands of their own-a complaint they voiced way too often in Ginny's opinion. Mum and Dad tried to give their children what they wanted, and if they didn't have enough money sometimes, it wasn't their fault. Ginny scowled at the sudden dampening of her mood, but the wizened wizard that abruptly materialized in front of her didn't seem to sense anything amiss.  
  
"Let's get started shall we?" he trilled, clapping his hands together, and darting off to the side to grab a long, narrow box off one of the stacked shelves. He whipped the lid off, sending up a swirling burst of dust that made Ginny cough. "Ash and Unicorn hair-I believe unicorn hair wands are quite popular with your family-9 inches-as you're small-and rather swishy." Ginny hesitated, unsure whether she was supposed to touch the wand or not. Mum nodded, so she picked it up and held it, feeling more than a bit ridiculous. "Well, what are you waiting for?" the wizard-Ginny assumed he was Mr. Ollivander-demanded. "Give it a try."   
  
Trying not to stare at him like he was nuts, Ginny gave a half-hearted dip of her wrist.   
"Apparently not," Mr. Ollivander muttered, snatching the wand so quickly Ginny drew back. He tossed the box out of the way, seemingly unconcerned about finding the wand later, and tugged a different box free.   
  
"Willow-another Weasley favorite-and Phoenix feather, 10 inches, quite supple."  
  
"Hmmm...as I recall your brother Charlie uses dragon heartstring...Perhaps this...Cherry and dragon heartstring, 10 inches, snappy."  
  
"Mr. Ollivander," Mum said a bit uncomfortably. "I don't mean to hurry you, but we're--"  
  
"Running a bit behind? Never fear-I have just the thing." Mr. Ollivander snagged a box from high in a corner and presented it with a flourish. "Mistletoe and mooncalf hair, 8 inches."  
  
Ginny reached out...and it was almost as if the wand leapt into her fingers. It looped and waved through the air, making her feel incredibly graceful. The room seemed to radiate with the silky gleam of moonlight on water.   
  
"Perfect match," Mr. Ollivander said with a self-congratulatory smile that didn't prevent Ginny's own ripple of pride.   
  
"How much do we owe you?" Mum asked, and Ginny felt her stomach crash at the thought of what such an incredible wand must cost.   
  
"Two galleons," Mr. Ollivander said, and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. It was still more than they could really afford, but she knew it was reasonable enough they could buy it. Mum handed Mr. Ollivander the money, and slid the box into Ginny's bag, where it beckoned as they walked down the street.  
  
It didn't take long for Mum to find a serviceable cauldron, and before she knew it, they had reached the bookstore. Flourish and Blotts was crowded. Ginny hated crowds. She hated everything about them; the noise, the heat, the lack of space. She shifted uncomfortably and tried not to look around for a way to escape. Even seeing Harry soon afterward offered no relief; for once, he was only one more face. Ginny wiggled her hand in Mum's, it was cramped and soggy with sweat.   
  
Slowly, the reason for all the fuss came into view. He was grinning from ear to ear as if he had never seen anything more agreeable than the awful crowd, which made Ginny instantly annoyed with him. Pictures of himself only made his grin that much more impossible to ignore, and the brightness of his white teeth, glossy golden hair and forget-me-not robes in the somewhat shadowy shop made Ginny's eyes hurt, a condition the puffs of purple smoke emitted by a man dancing about nearby with his camera only aggravated. As if that weren't enough, the man with the camera stepped on Ron's foot. Ginny really wanted to leave, she really didn't understand what Mum saw in Gilderoy Lockhart.  
  
"It can't be Harry Potter!" Lockhart was pulling Harry forward and the whole crowd was applauding. Ginny wondered if she was the only one paying enough attention to notice Harry was definitely turning pink. It wasn't anywhere as noticeable as Weasley red, but his cheeks held an unmistakably embarrassed twinge. Harry tried to sneak away from the obnoxious blonde as soon as he let go of his hand, but Lockhart pulled him back, making Ginny's temper surge protectively. She fought the urge to rush to the front of the store and yank Harry free. Mum would kill her and it would probably embarrass Harry further. But she'd like to give Lockhart a good swift kick in the behind, even if he had written most of the Hogwarts booklist, an accomplishment that suddenly seemed a lot less impressive as he announced his new job plans...  
  
Harry finally lurched away, promptly depositing his new schoolbooks in Ginny's cauldron. "You have these," he said, and it was so generous and thoughtful she could have kissed him, even though she knew he just wanted to get rid of them. She didn't know how to begin everything she wanted to say, so she settled for a shy smile.   
  
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" A blonde boy with a face that reminded Ginny strongly of a ferret had slithered into sight. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."  
  
"You leave him alone," Ginny snapped at last, beyond self-control. "He didn't want all that!" /Which would have noticed if you had eyes in your head, you ugly git./ Harry looked startled at the sound of her voice and Ginny couldn't help wondering darkly if he thought she was mute in spite of the fact she'd heard Ron tell him she never shut up.  
  
"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend," the weasel drawled.  
  
Ginny felt her face burst into flame.   
  
"Oh, it's you," Ron said nastily as he and Hermione arrived. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, huh?"  
  
Ginny wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, as it seemed perfectly normal to her that Harry should be there to buy schoolbooks, but the blonde boy either understood or wasn't too concerned with meaning. "Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley. I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for these."  
  
Ginny went hard and cold all through. If she'd known a curse, she would have used it without blinking. Ron was as red as she had felt a minute previously. He dumped his books into her cauldron with a clang and headed for the boy-he wasn't going to let a little thing like a lack of curses stop him. Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket. In spite of herself, Ginny had to stifle a grin. They really were good friends to Ron.   
  
"Ron," Dad said, struggling over with the twins. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."  
  
Ginny had never heard anything more inviting, but the tall blonde man with axe blade eyes and a hand on the blonde boy's shoulder caught Dad's attention. "Lucius," Dad said. That explained a lot. Ron hadn't quit complaining about Draco Malfoy all summer. It wasn't hard to see why.  
  
"Great," Ginny muttered under her breath, "evidence it didn't hatch from an egg." Hermione shot her a look that made her start guiltily, but Hermione grinned and no one else seemed to notice.   
"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. I hope they're paying you overtime," Lucius Malfoy observed, helping himself to Ginny's transfiguration text. She clenched her teeth. "Obviously not. Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"  
  
Dad turned an unhealthy shade of red, but his voice was hard and calm as he replied, "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."  
  
"Clearly." Malfoy looked pointedly at Hermione's parents, who seemed very friendly and intrigued by the world of Diagon Alley. "The company you keep, Weasley...and I had thought your family could sink no lower."  
  
Ginny's cauldron hurtled into the air. Spellbooks began to rain down, pounding painfully. Ginny was acutely aware of Harry edging closer as if trying to deflect the worst of it away from her, but before she could even be sure, the shop assistant and Hagrid were wading into the tempest. Hagrid pulled Dad and Mr. Malfoy apart, and the shop filled with a sudden, heavy hush.   
  
Malfoy's eye was already darkening where it had been hit with "An Encyclopedia of Toadstools", but Ginny didn't feel the least bit sorry for him. It still glittered like sharpened blade metal from inside the dark circle as he thrust her book back at her. She was too shocked to take in much as they finished their errands and made their way home. She had never realized there was so much cruelty and danger in the grown-up world...maybe she would rather just stay at home. 


	2. Going Places

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"  
by Jedi Amoira  
***********  
Disclaimer--If you see anything you like, it ain't mine, so please don't you sue. I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movie scripts, and my fellow fanfic writers, and I hope they realize this isn't intended as theft, but as imitation--the sincerest form of flattery.  
  
A/N--I may not own it, but I worked hard and I loved it...if you read it, please tell me what you think! Also, please respect my hard work and don't print or post this elsewhere without my permission!! Thanks. :-)  
  
My Thanks to Bill who caught the mistake about Ginny's age...I meant for her to have her 11th birthday in November--I hope I've corrected it now. :-)  
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Ginny found the book half-tucked into her second-hand copy of "A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration". Confused, she picked it up and began to flip through it; it looked like someone's diary, but they'd never written in it in spite of the fact it was quite old. "Poor thing," Ginny mumbled sympathetically. "You just need someone to appreciate you."  
  
Secretly, she would have preferred something more attractive herself, but a diary was to confide things in, not to look pretty. Shrugging, Ginny added ink to her quill and wrote the first words that came to mind on the appropriate date.   
  
--What I need is someone to talk to-  
  
She stared at the sentence in wistful silence, wondering how someone who lived in a house full of people could be lonely. She had raised the quill to put as much on the page, but her previous sentence had begun to dissolve before she could, fading away as if it had never existed. Ginny stared, wondering what she should do, but before she'd really gotten started, the words reappeared. Only, she realized with an odd shock of amazement and something she couldn't name in the pit of her stomach, they weren't the same words.  
  
--I have waited for years with no one to talk to-  
  
Ginny blinked.   
  
--It sounds as if we need one another-the diary prompted.  
  
Quill poised over the parchment, Ginny hesitated. -You're not really mine. I'm not sure I should keep you. I've never heard of a diary that writes back before, so you must be kind of valuable-  
  
--I would like to think so, but obviously the person who owned me didn't feel the need to keep good track of my whereabouts. You know what they say. Finders, Keepers-  
  
--Even if that's true, I still don't know anything about you-Ginny wrote, aware of a strangely surreal aspect to arguing with a book that was--more or less-empty. -I don't think I'm comfortable telling my innermost thoughts and secrets to a stranger-  
  
--Strangers are the best people to tell secrets to; their opinions don't matter-the diary contradicted smoothly.   
  
Ginny stared at the stark words. They made an odd sort of sense she found strangely attractive. Something about their appeal bothered her, though...  
  
--But if it makes you feel better, I'll introduce myself. Tom Riddle, at your service. And you are?-  
  
--Ginny Weasley-she wrote automatically, and almost regretted not having thought about it. To distract herself from worrying she added -Tom? Shouldn't you be a girl?-  
  
--A girl? Why?-  
  
--You're a diary. Aren't most diaries kept by girls?-  
  
--Maybe, but what's harder to find? A girl who's willing to listen, or a guy?-  
  
Ginny grinned. -You've got a point.-  
  
--Exactly. You need a male perspective and I need company. So go on-  
  
--I don't know about this-Ginny protested, sighing. -But I'll give it a shot. After all, I was going to write 'What I really need is someone to talk to, but this diary will have to do-  
  
--And you got exactly what you needed?-  
  
Ginny grinned. The written words somehow sounded exactly like her brother Bill. --Can't resist bragging about yourself, can you?-  
  
--Life Lesson #1, Ginny Weasley. It's never bragging to know your own worth-  
  
Ginny considered that and nodded. -Someone should explain that to Ron-  
  
--Ron? Is he your boyfriend?-  
  
--No, he's my brother. Mum says I'm too young for a boyfriend, because I'm only 10-  
  
--And what do you think?-  
  
--I-I'm not sure. There's this boy-  
  
--Tell me about him-  
  
--We were on Platform 9 3/4 last year when I saw him for the first time-Ginny lifted the quill, staring at the words as if she could see the scene all over again. -I'd gone with Mum to see Ron off on the train because it was going to be his first year at Hogwarts. He thought he was nervous, but I didn't know how I was going to get through an entire year without him. And this boy walked up and tried to ask Mum how to get onto the Platform...-- Ginny blinked against threatening tears. It was an unremarkable incident, and she was a little embarrassed to be affected so strongly, even though she knew no one could see. --He had the biggest, most trusting green eyes I'd ever seen, but they looked sad at the depths. I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay. And he had dark hair that was rumpled like he'd just gotten out of bed-Ginny swallowed another little sigh at the way Harry's hair always made her want to touch it. --Mum told him how to get onto the train with Ron, and I knew I'd never see him again and I had to talk to him at least once, so I wished him good luck. When Mum and I found Fred and George (my older brothers, they're twins) on the Platform, they told us the boy was Harry Potter and I knew that was why he looked so sad. I wanted to go and find him so I could tell him I understood, but Mum said he wasn't something to gape at, and she was probably right. I have a huge family and he lost all his. How could I understand how he feels?-  
  
--Quite a story. But you talk about this Harry Potter as if he were famous-  
  
--Well, he is? When were you published? Haven't you heard about the Boy Who Lived? He defeated the Dark Lord-  
  
--After my time, I'm afraid. He sounds quite ambitious. A Slytherin is he?-  
  
--A Slytherin? Harry?-  
  
--Harry? So you met him again, then?-  
  
--Well, yeah-Ginny was acutely aware of the blush simmering through her face to the tips of her ears. -As it turns out, he was in Gryffindor and he became friends with Ron. Apparently they had all sorts of adventures together, along with a girl named Hermione. You should hear Ron talk about them- If half those stories were true Harry Potter was every bit as smart and sensitive and likeable as she had thought, and a great friend. -Anyway, Ron brought him to visit-  
  
--Ah! Now we get to the interesting part!-  
  
--I didn't know he was here, and when I saw his face I turned around and ran right upstairs again! I was in my nightdress! I must have looked ridiculous-  
  
--I'm sure he hardly noticed. He was probably too worried about making a good impression. Besides, shy girls are adorable-  
  
Ginny's blush deepened. -Thanks, but I'm not usually shy.-  
  
--All the better. Guys like to know they have an effect. -  
  
--Really?-- Ginny frowned bemusedly, tucking the information away to ponder later. -Anyway, I heard Ron tell him that and he mentioned I'd been asking about Harry all summer!-  
  
--If the boy is famous he probably assumed that's why you were interested-- Tom suggested reasonably.   
  
--Maybe. But he showed up yesterday morning while I was eating breakfast-  
  
--Not that surprising, Ginny. You said he's staying at your house.-  
  
--Yeah, but I was so...so...---  
  
--Overwhelmed?-  
  
--Sort-of. Overwhelmed by his face that I accidentally knocked my porridge bowl off the table.-  
  
--He didn't make fun of you, did he?-  
  
--Of course not!! But he didn't have to. I blushed from head to toe.-  
  
--Blushing can be an incredibly troublesome affliction, but with any luck you'll grow out of it.-  
  
--I hope so. But that doesn't help me now.- Ginny glanced away from the diary as if trying to escape her fate, then re-inked her quill with a sigh. -Then Fred and George had to go and tell him how poor we are.-  
  
--Did he seem surprised? Taken aback?-  
  
--Well, no. I'm sure he knew, but that doesn't mean we have to advertise, does it? He just asked me if I'd be starting school.-  
  
--What did you say?-  
  
Ginny was suddenly afraid the heat from her face would set her room afire. She wanted to crawl under the bed and hide. -I put my elbow in the butter dish-- she wrote reluctantly.   
  
--Points for creativity.-  
  
--Just what I wanted.--- Ginny made the ugliest face she could manage. -He hasn't said much to me since, probably afraid of what I'd do.-  
  
--He'll come around, Ginny. You sound like a very attractive girl.-- The nature of her blush seemed to change. Ginny shifted in her seat uncomfortably.   
  
--Thanks. I'd better go, it's almost time for dinner.-  
  
--I hope we'll talk again soon.-  
  
--Don't worry, we will.- Ginny started to leave the room, stopped in the doorway, turned back and stashed the battered little diary under her bed. Feeling much better, she clattered downstairs to the table. 


	3. On the Road to Hogwarts

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power  
By Jedi Amoira  
  
Disclaimer-What you see here belongs to JK Rowling, WB pictures, and my fellow fanfic writers...I'm just paying tribute to their work.  
  
Author's Notes-I don't own it, but I've worked hard, and I love it. If you read it, please let me know what you think. And please respect my labor of love and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
*********  
  
Since it was their last night at home, Mum had made a meal of all favorite dishes like she did every year, only this year Ginny's was included next to those of Percy, Ron, Fred and George and-she was very pleased to see-Harry. Luckily, for once she didn't look so out of place because she didn't know what to say. No one else said much either. They were too busy eating.   
  
After dinner she watched Ron beat Harry at wizard's chess even though she pretended not to. A couple of times she had advice on the tip of her tongue, only to have it vanish at the thought Harry might look at her. When the twins set off a sting of wet-start Filibuster fireworks, she jumped out of her skin and narrowly avoided spilling her cocoa in the process. Harry reached out to help her catch her balance, and her heart nearly stopped.   
  
"Off to bed with the lot of you," Mum scolded fondly as the world came back into focus.   
  
"Thanks," Ginny mumbled awkwardly.   
  
"Anytime," Harry said so easily she felt even more uncomfortable.   
  
The quiet solitude of her room was a relief, but she couldn't seem to fall asleep, no matter how hard she tried or how many sheep she counted. Finally, she kicked aside her covers, feeling frustrated, and groped around until she found the diary. She weighted down the pages with an illuminated rock the twins had charmed for her last Christmas.   
  
--Tom?-  
  
--Yes, Ginny?-  
  
--You went to Hogwarts, right?-  
  
--What do you want to know?-  
  
--Do you think I'll like it there? I've been laying in bed worrying that I won't fit in.-  
  
--Of course you'll fit in. The sorting will make sure of that.-  
  
--Is the sorting difficult? Fred says it's a troll, but George says you have to dodge a rare curse.-  
  
--I don't think I should ruin the surprise. It's a tradition.-  
  
--Yeah- Ginny wrote wryly -I know. But I don't see how it's supposed to help.-  
  
--It will assign you to a house of people like you. People in the same houses almost always get along. I've never heard of anyone being completely left out. I'm surprised you don't already have a house you want to be in; a lot of people do.-  
  
--Oh, I'll probably end up in Gryffindor. That's the house my whole family has been in...but sometimes I feel completely left out with them. What if there isn't a house for people like me? I'm not that interesting.-  
  
--Sure you are. You figured out how to communicate with me. You're smart as a Slytherin.-  
  
--I thought the smartest house was Ravenclaw.-  
  
--Oh, they read a lot, but no one can outwit Slytherin. And you'd be noticed in Slytherin instead of hidden behind some book.-  
  
--But I'd miss my brothers like I did when they went to school without me. And Harry.-  
  
--Oh, of course. -  
  
--Did you know Professor Dumbledore?-  
  
--Is he the Headmaster? He taught Transfiguration when I was there.-  
  
--My brothers say he's the best headmaster ever.-  
  
--Your writing is becoming quite illegible. I think it's about time you went to bed.-Ginny yawned heavily. -Maybe you're right. I'll talk to you tomorrow after the Sorting.-  
  
--Good luck.-  
  
--Good luck.-  
  
The next thing she knew, a very-harried Mum was shaking her awake. Ginny had originally intended to put on her school robes before she left the house so she didn't have to change later, but suddenly it seemed too grown-up and official. She put on the plain blue dress she wore a lot instead, and was about to put on her rubber-soled tennis shoes when her lack of socks was discovered. With a mangled shout of frustration, she leapt off the foot of her bed and darted into the closest bedroom. In no time at all, she was tying her shoes, even if the green socks and blue dress did seem like an odd combination.   
  
Ginny stormed downstairs, braiding her hair as she went and nearly ran face-first into the hastily-buttered toast Mum was holding out for her breakfast. The twins appeared to be arguing with Mum about packing up several of their experiments to take with them, Ron was chasing Scabbers, and Harry seemed to be short a shoe. Dad unearthed the shoe from beneath the sofa while Ginny set about helping to catch Scabbers. The next thing she knew, Mum was sweeping them out the door and into Dad's blue Anglia. They were nearly to the end of the road when Fred announced he had to go back for his broomstick. No sooner had they made it to the end of the road the second time than George announced he'd left something behind. When it turned out to be an extra packet of wet-start Filibuster Fireworks, Mum was livid.   
  
They made it twice as far before Ginny got her bearings enough to realize the diary was still at home under her bed. "Dad, we have to go back-I've forgotten my diary!"  
  
"Awww," the twins complained.   
  
"What do you need a diary for," Ron demanded impatiently.   
  
"Really, Ginny, you should try to be more organized," Percy added virtuously. Ginny elbowed him surreptiously in the stomach.   
  
"Ginny, try to be sensible, dear", Mum advised. "We'll send you the diary by post."  
  
"We aren't that far away from home," Ginny pleaded, trying not to look nervous at the idea of Mum getting a good look at it. "Wouldn't it be easier on Errol for us to just go back and get it?"  
  
Mum sighed. "She's right, Arthur, dear."  
  
"Thanks!," Ginny shouted.   
  
She was out of the car and halfway upstairs before Dad had finished parking. She seized the nondescript little book in a white-knuckled grip and flew back. Her brothers would never let her live it down if her diary made them late.  
  
Harry seemed amused, but more than a little dazed by the chaos of the situation. Ginny almost told him that once he got used to it he'd fit right in. She was actually glad they had to hurry at the station. She didn't have time to feel nervous. Mum and Dad whisked her onto the train and helped her pick out a compartment. She knew Ron and Harry would be joining her because there weren't many seats that hadn't filled up yet, and, at any rate, Ron had promised after she'd sheepishly admitted she didn't want to face her unknown schoolmates alone.   
  
Hermione Granger came in as Mum and Dad were saying goodbye. She smiled warmly. Ginny smiled shyly back.   
  
"Are you excited about starting Hogwarts, Ginny?," Hermione asked. "I was when I got on the train last year-well, I still am-it all seemed like some improbable dream even though I'd read "Hogwarts: A History" at least a dozen times. "  
  
"I haven't read "Hogwarts: A History" at all," Ginny admitted, feeling remiss.   
  
"It's a wonderful reference. I'd be happy to loan you my copy if you like. Unfortunately, I don't have it with me. It wouldn't fit."  
  
Ginny found herself liking this matter-of-fact girl with the intelligent eyes and wild hair. Maybe they could be friends. "That's really nice of you. Thanks."  
  
Hermione grinned. "No problem. So where are Ron and Harry? Searching for the snack trolley? I didn't think even Ron could be hungry yet."  
  
Ginny snickered. "I bet he could," she contradicted. "I don't know where they--" 


	4. Journey to Hogwarts

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power  
By Jedi Amoira  
****  
  
Disclaimer-What you see here belongs to JK Rowling, WB pictures, and my fellow fanfic writers...I'm just paying tribute to their work.  
  
Author's Notes-I don't own it, but I've worked hard, and I love it. If you read it, please let me know what you think. And please respect my labor of love and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
*********  
The train was moving. She and Hermione looked at one another, stunned. Then the door to the compartment began to jiggle. "There you are," Hermione said, turning to the door, her relief a little too evident.   
  
"Oh, Hermione," said a somewhat round-looking boy with a vaguely puzzled expression. "Do you mind if we come in?" He was accompanied by a short, freckled boy with a camera.  
  
"Some boy called Malfoy is making a dreadful racket in our one," the boy with the camera added vaguely.   
  
"We have plenty of room," Ginny said.   
  
"Malfoy's always like that," Hermione added. "Ginny Weasley, this is Neville Longbottom. Neville's in my year. Neville, this is Ginny-Ron's little sister. I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said, for the benefit of the freckled boy. "I'm afraid I don't know your name."  
  
"Colin Creevy," the boy squeaked. "My dad's a postman."   
  
Hermione looked somewhat nonplussed. "My parents are dentists," she told him. "Magic takes a little getting used to, but it's worth it."  
  
"Everything's so exciting," Colin gabbled. "I didn't know places like Diagon Alley existed. And did you know they make candy that comes in every flavor? They're called Bertie Botts Beans and-- " Ginny realized she was staring.   
  
"Hey," Neville interrupted so smoothly Ginny got the impression he was getting used to Colin's rambling, "where are Ron and Harry?"  
  
"Wherever they are," Ginny said firmly, "Ron has some explaining to do. He promised to keep me company."  
  
"She has witnesses," Hermione confirmed, looking dangerous momentarily.   
  
"Ooh. Sorry," Neville muttered awkwardly and slapped his forehead.  
  
"Trevor," Hermione said clinically a split-second before he exclaimed, "Trevor!"  
  
Colin eyed Hermione interestedly. "Cool. Was that magic?"  
  
"No," Hermione assured him with a smile, shaking her head. "I just know Neville." Ginny grinned. Neville and Colin were certainly entertaining, but she almost wished she had a chance to talk to Hermione without them around. Still, they had a whole year to get to know one another.   
  
"Firs' years," an unlikely man towering over the crowd called as Ginny stumbled off the train. "Firs' years over here."  
  
"That's Hagrid," Hermione explained. "He's going to take you on the traditional boat ride."  
  
"Firs' years," Hagrid called again. Ginny looked over at him, uncertain. Hermione squeezed her arm in encouragement. "You'll do great, " she said, and Hermione was never wrong if Ron were to be believed. "I'll see you at the feast."  
  
Ginny nodded and trailed after Colin who had scampered off ahead.   
  
The lights of the castle melted and merged in the mist over lake, hanging in air just out of reach like a suspension of stars. The very air seemed alive with the throb of magic. Breathless, Ginny was suddenly very glad she had come.   
  
The first years stopped in an uncertain clump in the entry, staring around unsurely. A tall witch in gorgeous robes of cut green velvet stood above them. She looked taunt, like a rope tightly pulled, but her eyes were touched with softness and her voice had the husky hint of a kitten's purr, warming Ginny to the tips of her toes. "I am Professor McGonagall," she said, and proceeded to explain the house system Ginny had been hearing about her whole life before she lined them up in pairs.  
  
The Great Hall was even more magical than the view from the lake. The starlight sky hung overhead, so close you felt you could reach up and snatch stars from it. Just below it hung hundreds of candles ablaze in flickering rows. Ginny had never realized before the awesome power and possibility of being a witch, but she knew she would never again forget. They were irrevocably a part of her, the knowledge, this time and place, like her red hair or her freckles.   
  
She tried not to look at the sea of faces on either side of her, but Hermione, Percy, and the twins muttered encouragement as she passed. She didn't hear anything from Harry or Ron. Violently squelching both disappointment and worry, Ginny vowed revenge. When she saw the hat, she extended the vow to the twins.   
  
"Adumar, Nathan," Professor McGonagall read loudly.   
  
A friendly-looking boy in glasses walked up to the hat and put it on. Nothing happened. Then, "Ravenclaw," the hat announced, and the boy went to join their table.   
  
Anderson, Bettina was a Hufflepuff almost before she put the hat on.   
  
Creevy, Colin became a Gryffindor after some deliberation.   
  
Duran, Doug wore a heavy scowl. Ginny was almost relieved when he disappeared in the direction of the Slytherin table. Part of her remembered the diary's fascination with Slytherin and wanted to shiver.  
  
Edwards, Nineve was Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff got Fraiser, Vivian and Geeble, Christopher. Hart, Patricia was a Gryffindor.   
  
Ginny's legs were numb by the time they reached Lyman, Leonore, also a Gryffindor.  
  
"Walden, Ian," eventually became a Gryffindor, and suddenly it was Ginny's turn.   
  
She still couldn't feel her legs, but somehow she managed to walk to the stool. The hat felt heavy and old in her hands. She put it on and was glad she was sitting down when a voice spoke in her head. /// So, another Weasley///, the hat-or so she assumed-said, sounding amused. ///But a girl. Isn't that a different story?///  
  
//You tell me//, Ginny thought, and felt a tickle suspiciously like a chuckle.   
  
///A quick wit. And a strong love of books. Perhaps Ravenclaw./// The hat paused and added ///You have the Weasley temper and a tendency to impatience, I see. Definitely NOT a Hufflepuff.///  
  
//No//, Ginny admitted ruefully, //I'm afraid I'm not that nice.//  
  
///It's a wise person who knows their own limitations. You would do well in Ravenclaw indeed. You're reluctant. Why?///  
  
//Someone told me Slytherin was the real house of learning//, Ginny temporized, not wanting to admit she was afraid that without her brothers she would be lonely.   
  
///You wouldn't do in Slytherin///, the hat reproved, ///you're far too transparent. It's a tough call but when all's said and done you have to be loyal to your heart, Ginny Weasley. No matter what your head may have to say about the matter. Never forget that. And in your heart, you're a-/// "Gryffindor!"  
  
Unsettled as she was by the experience, Ginny knew the hat was right. Gryffindor was her family. Gryffindor was home. Tears of joy pushed at the back of her eyes as she went to join them. She couldn't even hear the next name, the twins were cheering so loudly.   
  
The feast was delicious, even if Ginny didn't notice half of what she ate because she was too busy craning around the table in search of Harry and Ron. She still hadn't found them when the Prefect led her back to the dormitory. She loved the roaring fire and squashy armchairs of the cozy Common Room instantly, even if the number of people in it was kind of overwhelming.   
  
She was glad to escape to the first year girls' dormitory and put on the pajamas the house elves had laid out. To her own surprise, she was completely exhausted. She wouldn't even have written in the diary before falling asleep if she hadn't promised. -Well, the feast is over.-  
  
--And?-  
  
--I'm a Gryffindor.-  
  
--Congratulations.-- Ginny knew it was ridiculous, but she couldn't help thinking the word looked a little flat.   
  
--Yeah, no surprise there. Do you know any good tricks?-  
  
--Isn't it a bit early to play tricks on your classmates?-  
  
--Lighten up, you sound like Percy. Anyway, I want to trick my brothers, not my classmates. Ron lied to me, the prat. He was SUPPOSED to keep me company on the train-  
  
--With Harry?-  
  
--Well, yeah. But they weren't even at the feast. Supportive, huh?-  
  
--Maybe they have a good reason.-  
  
--And it would be?-  
  
--You could sneak some vanishing parchment into his bag so he'll use it to do his homework. When he goes to turn the essay in-  
  
--All the words will vanish and he'll think he has to do it again unless he wants to hand it in blank! You're pretty sneaky.  
  
--I like to think so.-  
  
--The school is incredible.-  
  
--And it has incredible secrets. Someday I'll tell you a few.-  
  
--Like what?-  
  
--Not tonight. You need your sleep.-  
  
--Wet blanket.- Ginny drew a smiley face so the diary would know she was teasing and dropped it into the bag next to her bed. 


	5. New Faces, New Places

Disclaimer--Story, lines, and characters belong ultimately to J.K. Rowling with little flourishes from Mr. Kloves. Many other ideas contained here are "borrowed" from my fellow fanfiction authors. I hope everyone takes my imitation in the way in which it was intended... sincere and harmless flattery.  
  
Author's Notes-- No one else seems to love this story, but I do...and I guess that's what's important. Since I do love it and work hard, please don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. And I'm starting to get a little lonely, so if you could leave a comment to keep me company, I would really appreciate it. Thanks.  
*************************************************************************************************  
Seconds later the door to the dormitory burst open as the other girls bounced in, looking as if they'd just left a party. "A car!," a tall, solid girl was saying, "Can you imagine?"  
  
"Leave it to Harry Potter to arrive with a bang," a round-nosed girl with dark hair agreed. The other girls all seemed to find this remark unbelievably funny though Ginny couldn't imagine why.   
  
"Harry didn't come to school on the train?", she asked a bit stupidly.  
The other girls laughed. "Not him. He used a car and flew in."  
  
Dad's blue Anglia? "Why?" Ginny demanded.  
  
"Something about not being able to get through the Barrier at Platform 9 3/4?" a blonde with eyebrows like question marks explained with a shrug. "Rubbish."  
  
"Doesn't make a lot of sense," the dark-haired girl agreed, "but if he didn't want to get expelled, he had to tell Dumbledore something, didn't he?"  
  
Ginny could feel her face scrunching together in a concentrated frown. It certainly didn't make a lot of sense why Ron and Harry would be unable to get through the Barrier when she didn't have any problem. Still, if it were true...and what would she do if Ron and Harry were expelled?  
  
"Feels funny, doesn't it," the tall girl observed into the silence pressing in on all sides, "to be roommates."  
  
"My sister says in no time at all it will feel like second nature because we're so used to it," the brunette volunteered uncertainly.   
  
"I'm glad you guys are going to class with me," the blonde admitted. "I won't feel so ridiculous and out of place if I know someone."  
  
The tall girl surveyed the group matter-of-factly. "Maybe we'd better introduce ourselves in that case." She sat down on the bed that must have held her things. "Patricia Hart-- I can't stand Quidditch." Ginny must have looked as shocked as she felt, because Patricia snickered. "Mum blames it on Dad-he's a muggle."  
  
"I guess I'm next?" The brunette glanced around to be sure. "Leonore Lyman. My parents run the post office in Hogsmeade."  
  
"Tempest Zabini," the blonde said.  
  
"Ginny Weasley. I have 6 brothers."  
  
"6! That's a lot!" Patricia looked vaguely startled.  
  
"Yeah, I get teased badly enough by one," Leonore sympathized.  
  
Ginny smiled weakly.   
  
"What do you think class tomorrow will be like?," speculated Tempest. "I hope we don't get a lot of homework."  
  
"Who doesn't?", Patricia seconded with a sigh.   
  
The idea of homework actually exited Ginny. The more she learned, the faster her brothers would stop picking on her for being so far behind. She looked away, feeling uncomfortable.   
  
If she hadn't been required to wake, Ginny never would have believed she finally managed to block out the sound of the other girls whispering and fall asleep. Actually, they weren't what disturbed her most if she was being honest. Her mattress and pillow were a blissful retreat, but the shadows seemed alien and the bed curtain created a sibilant hissing that was far beyond merely distracting.   
  
A sharp face with clear, penetrating eyes hovered strangely in the back of her mind just out of reach. She had the impression she'd seen it in a dream she didn't remember having, not that such a minor detail could keep her from feeling worried about something. She would have liked to put a name to the face, she felt as if she knew him. What Ginny wanted more than anything was to go back to sleep.  
  
"We're going to breakfast," Patricia announced as if Ginny's participation wasn't a question.  
Ginny wasn't really hungry, but Mum wouldn't like her skipping breakfast and she didn't want to go without anyone else.  
  
Hermione glanced up from a book propped against a milk jug and smiled so warmly Ginny nearly asked her what on earth could possibly be so interesting about Gilderoy Lockhart. "Good morning," she said instead, a little blearily, and decided not to notice Ron and Harry toward whom Hermione had her back directed.  
  
She managed a seat between Hermione and Tempest, and studied the food for a moment before picking up a piece of toast with a decided lack of enthusiasm. Ginny really hated mornings. She wished the Great Hall served coffee, but , as far as she could tell, they didn't. She gave a sigh that quickly became a yawn instead, then broke off as she saw hundreds of owls soar overhead. They circled the tables with majestic grace, dropping packages that Ginny, used to owl post, still found amazing.   
  
She felt the tiniest sliver of guilt at the angry satisfaction she felt when the red envelope arrived for Ron. Politely pretending to be interested in the different magical bands Tempest was reviewing for Colin Creevy, Ginny paid avid attention as Ron opened the Howler. Mum's yelling confirmed that, for whatever reason, Harry and Ron really hadn't been on the train. Ginny was even starting to feel sorry for Ron. He not only looked like he'd learned his lesson, she'd never seen him so red. Mum made him more uncomfortable than Ginny ever could.   
  
She was considering whether or not to let him off the hook when Mum's magically-magnified voice mentioned her. Her face was so hot with blush she was sure her hair was going to catch fire. Her skin was so incredibly sensitive, she could feel each eye on her like a pinpoint. Desperate to escape, she instinctively began to sink under the table. She was going to get Ron for this.  
  
She loved the diminutive Professor Flitwick the minute she walked into his classroom for her very first lesson. He was cheerful, wonderfully warm with wit both quiet and quirky. It was a pleasure just to listen to him speak. As an added bonus, Charms seemed to have a simple grace Ginny found quite fascinating.   
  
Their next class was, in direct contrast, impossibly boring. "I'm not surprised he didn't notice he was dead," Ginny whispered dryly to Colin. "If he was this interesting when he was alive." Colin squeaked in amusement, drawing sharp looks their direction. Ginny opened her Astronomy book under the edge of the desk and ignored them.   
  
Astronomy was marvelous. Ginny loved the clean smell of the night air at the top of the tallest tower and the smooth arc of the stars through the telescope that rested so comfortably in her hand. The notations looked crisp and complicated on her parchment, generating a feeling of satisfying importance that made Ginny worry she was too much like Percy.  
  
She wasn't quite sure how she felt about Horology. Parts of it seemed very interesting, but the greenhouse was crowded with Gryffindor and Slytherin so that it felt hot and stifling, and the Slithering kept casting sideways glances in her direction and whispering. Ginny spent most of the lesson trying not to fall into something or contaminate the soil by sweating.   
  
She spent most of Care of Magical Creatures with Hufflepuff longing for the castle's silence and shade.   
  
Transfiguration was enjoyable just by comparison. Professor McGonagall was clipped but concise with a subtle but pervasive enthusiasm for her subject that attentive students couldn't help but sense and respond to. Ginny thought her match looked sharper by the end of class, but it might have been her imagination.   
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts, on the other hand, took about two minutes to give her a splitting headache, with all those photos running around trying to get her attention and Lockhart's tedious test that didn't seem to include a single useful question.   
  
Potions with Ravenclaw was last. She hadn't been there ten minutes when she decided her brothers were absolutely right-Snape was a git without a nice bone in his body. At least he seemed willing to leave her alone...the worst thing that happened was that her hand got tired chopping ingredients, and Ginny was willing to consider herself lucky.   
By the end of the week, she hardly knew how she felt about anything. She knew the most logical approach would have been to try to write things down in her diary, so she could see them separately and sort them out that way, but somehow, she couldn't help feeling that she'd feel a lot less worn and confused if she could just get away from the school...especially if she could see Harry...  
  
She walked out into the glaring late summer sun without any real idea of where she was going, squinting against the glare off the lake that threatened to drive her blind. "Oh, 'Ello, there," boomed a voice she found familiar. "You must be the Weasleys' little sister."   
  
Ginny felt herself flush, which only confirmed the assumption. Too shy to form words, she nodded mutely.   
  
"Ginny innit?," the giant persisted.   
  
Ginny nodded again.   
  
The giant grinned. "Well, welcome to me 'umble 'ome, Ginny Weasley. I'm Hagrid-Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Would you care for a drink?"  
  
"Ooh," Ginny breathed, forgetting her shyness. "Yes, please!"   
  
Hagrid laughed, holding open the door to the little cottage. "Well, come on in, then."  
  
Hagrid poured them both tall glasses of cool apple cider. "Just the thing to get me in the mood for school and all," he said cheerfully, "there's nothing that seems more fitting fer autumn."   
Ginny preferred pumpkin juice, but she had to admit that the cider did seem somehow suited to the thought of changing colors in the trees and a cool crisp breeze. "My brother Ron talks about you a lot," she said shyly. "He says he and Harry come to visit you all the time."  
"That they do, an' Hermione, too," Hagrid confirmed with a smile. "He's right loyal, your brother."  
  
Ginny smiled proudly. "I know," she said softly, and Hagrid reached out and ruffled her hair with one of his huge hands.   
  
"Want ter see me pumpkins? They're coming along nicely already if I do say so meself."  
Grateful for something to push the wish that Ron would just notice that she should be part of his group, too, having been his most loyal supporter long before he started school, Ginny nodded.   
The pumpkins were huge. Ginny stared in amazement. "Wow." she finally said. "They almost look like they have an engorgement on them."  
  
Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, looking remarkably like one of the twins confronted with mum. Ginny fought the urge to giggle. She leaned her head in slightly to whisper, "Don't worry, I won't tell."   
  
Hagrid clapped her thankfully on the back, nearly knocking her headfirst into the questionable pumpkin patch. "Much obliged to yer. Come back an' visit soon, Miss Weasley."  
  
"Okay," she agreed, waving as she walked away, stopping for a stray chicken that wandered across her path. She saw chickens all the time at home, but something about this one sent a surge of apprehension under her skin she was sure she had to be imagining. "Bye, Hagrid!" 


	6. Haunted Hideaway

Disclaimer--Story, lines, and characters belong ultimately to J.K. Rowling with little flourishes from Mr. Kloves. Many other ideas contained here are "borrowed" from my fellow fanfiction authors. I hope everyone takes my imitation in the way in which it was intended... sincere and harmless flattery.  
  
Author's Notes-- No one else seems to love this story, but I do...and I guess that's what's important. Since I do love it and work hard, please don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. And I'm starting to get a little lonely, so if you could leave a comment to keep me company, I would really appreciate it. Thanks.  
*************************************************************************************************  
Saturday seemed to stretch on forever...every one seemed to be off doing their own thing, even Colin and Neville. Ginny spent most of the day combing the Lockhart books for anything that seemed like the DADA lessons described by Bill. Even though she'd spent most of the day wishing for someone to talk to, by the time everyone began showing up, she preferred to be left alone with her thoughts. She pulled out the nondescript little diary.   
  
--One week down.--   
  
--So, Ginny Weasley, how are you fitting in at Hogwarts?-  
  
--Okay, I guess. But my brothers were right. I don't know anything! I wish I were brilliant like Hermione, but she hasn't even had time to talk to me since we got here. She's always studying. -  
  
--What about the great Harry Potter?-  
  
--Colin Creevy keeps following him around so I couldn't get close to him even if I wanted. You can tell he hates the way Colin won't quit asking questions, but he never says a word, he's too sweet. I hope he doesn't feel as uncomfortable around me, if he didn't like me I'm not sure I could stand it! But then I didn't ask him for his autograph...apparently Colin did. Everyone's talking about it thanks to that Lockhart git. I don't know what Hermione and Mum see in him, but-  
  
--Do you have anyone to talk to?-  
--Oh, sure. The other girls are really nice and everything...it's just that no one understands me like you, Tom. Not even my brothers.-  
  
--Did you ever get even with them like you wanted?-  
  
--Mum sent Ron an unbelievable Howler so I let him off the hook...almost. I slipped him the parchment and he lost a 4-foot essay for Professor Bins. -  
  
--Ouch!-  
--Yeah, he blamed the twins, of course. I also stole his favorite socks, but only because I like them and my feet were really cold.-  
  
--Okay?-  
  
--I really nailed the twins, though.- Ginny sat back with a satisfied smirk just remembering.   
  
--Disappearing Parchment again?-  
  
--No, the twins deserved something special, don't you think? It took a couple of days in the library, but I managed to charm their shoes so every time they took a step it smelled as if a dungbomb had gone off. They were like that for two and a half days before the twins found the counterspell.- Ginny snickered. -Everyone cracked jokes every time the twins came near them, and they got detention from Snape because he couldn't stand the smell.-  
  
--They must have been livid.-  
  
--Fred and George? Nah. They were impressed. Best of all, they thought their friend Lee did it.-  
  
--So?-  
  
--So they got even with him!-  
  
--Sneaky.--   
  
Ginny could tell somehow that Tom was impressed. -Thanks.- She wrote as Leonore walked around her chair. -I wish I had more privacy. I hate writing to you with the girls all trying to read over my shoulder.-  
  
--I know a place where you wouldn't be disturbed. There's a girls' bathroom on the first floor that's never used.-  
  
--A bathroom? Sounds a bit...odd. Besides, how do you know it's not used?-  
  
--It's haunted.-  
  
--That's weird. A ghost haunts the bathroom?-  
  
--She's downright pathetic.-  
  
--Tom! That's a horrible thing to say!-  
  
--But true nonetheless.-  
  
--Well, if I started hiding in a bathroom, wouldn't I be a little pathetic?-  
  
--The ghost is pathetic because she spends all her time sulking. You'd just be taking advantage.-  
  
--Um...why not?-  
  
The moment she entered the bathroom, Ginny Weasley knew she'd made a mistake. Her head began to spin until it seemed to be hovering near the ceiling instead of staying where it should have been. Her ears were full of whispering in a voice she found familiar even though it sounded tinny and hollow and spoke so much the words overlapped in a heavy buzz. The hand that held her quill and the diary was tingling so powerfully it felt as if it were about to blister, and she was afraid it was going to hit the floor because it felt so heavy. She stumbled toward the sink, groping awkwardly for support or water to splash on her face. The world itself flickered out of existence like a match being blown out.  
  
Suddenly her head felt clear, and she was straightening up. Her reflection in the mirror was  
frighteningly pale with the slightest shadows under bloodshot amber-grey eyes. As she walked to the dorm through halls that seemed inexplicably dark, she thought she saw mud on her hem, but she hadn't been outside.   
  
That night, she dreamed of the face again. It seemed to be laughing at her, and she woke shivering.   
  
--That bathroom is strange-  
--Honestly, Ginny, it's a good thing your brothers didn't hear you say something like that if they already think you're silly. How can a bathroom be strange?-  
  
--Well...I'm not sure...but that one made my head go all funny, and I don't remember leaving it but I got mud all over my hem. Do you think I'm crazy?-  
  
--Don't be silly. Someone probably tracked mud from the floor from outside. As for your head going funny, maybe it was just because you'd spent so long bent over your books trying to study.-  
  
--I suppose...maybe I should ask Harry about that bathroom, he might know something...--  
  
--Do you really want to make a bathroom the topic of the first conversation you have with him?-  
  
--Ummm...well...--  
  
--How romantic...I'm sure he'll be impressed. Who else talks about bathrooms to a hero like that?-  
  
--I don't think...breakfast!-  
  
  
"Hermione," Ginny said as she slid into the seat next to her in the Great Hall, "have you ever heard of Moaning Myrtle?"  
  
"Met her have you? Sorry. I should have thought to warn you before."  
  
"No, I haven't actually met her...I just wondered..."  
  
"Trust me, you don't want to.."  
  
"Yeah, I've been told," Ginny said, struggling to get to the point, "but how'd she end up haunting the bathroom?"  
  
Hermione stared for a moment, then gave a surprisingly Ron-like shrug. "Don't know...seems a bit...rude to ask, doesn't it?"  
  
"I guess," Ginny said, and when she would have continued the subject, looked up to find Hermione's attention absorbed by her book. Harry was sitting close by, toying with his eggs unenthusiastically, but Tom was right. She didn't want the first intelligible thing she said to him to be a question about a bathroom no one else seemed interested in. She tried to think of something else to say, and ended up so flustered by her lack of ideas she put her elbow in the butter dish again. Luckily, Ron was in the middle of an impressive tirade about Filch, and no one seemed to notice. 


	7. Things Heat Up

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power" by Jedi Amoira  
***************************************************************  
  
Disclaimer--Story, lines, and characters belong ultimately to J.K. Rowling with little flourishes from Mr. Kloves. Many other ideas contained here are "borrowed" from my fellow fanfiction authors. I hope everyone takes my imitation in the way in which it was intended... sincere and harmless flattery.  
  
Author's Notes-- Since I do love this story and work hard, please don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. And I'm starting to get a little lonely, so if you could leave a comment to keep me company, I would really appreciate it.   
  
Many, many, MANY heartfelt thanks to Pauline...when I found your review the other day, it was like...finding out maybe you do have a chance to be noticed by Harry Potter. ;-) Your enthusiasm and support is a LIFELINE--I really appreciate it!  
  
And many more heartfelt thanks to Bill for noticing and letting me know you noticed...and for telling me exactly what Ginny needs to hear...that not being noticed isn't necessarily the same thing as not being appreciated.   
  
You guys are my heroes. I hope you keep reading.   
  
Amoira  
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--Harry Potter is never going to be friends with me...I can't even get Hermione to notice me and we have more in common!-  
  
--I'm sure she'd be glad to pay attention to you if you just asserted yourself a little, Ginny. You should be more confident.-  
  
--Yeah, telling her what I think of Gilderoy Lockhart would be sure to make her want to talk to me. Oy, Hermione, quit ignoring me for that book; Lockhart is a prat!-  
  
--Maybe she's always like that...--  
  
--Yeah, what bugs me is Ron...he's hardly said two words to me since school started...and after I spent all last year wishing I could be keeping him company.-  
  
--Sounds like Ron is being a prat, too-  
  
--Maybe, or maybe I'm just too awkward to spend time with... --  
  
--Nonsense, I think you're wonderful to spend time with-  
  
--You have to, you're my diary.-  
  
--Well, yes, but-  
  
"Do you think it's ever going to stop raining again, Ginny?," Colin interrupted. Not really sorry for an excuse to end her conversation with Tom, Ginny slammed the diary shut and tossed it in her backpack. "It's been raining for days."  
  
"I like rain," Ginny said wistfully. "At least I like the soft, gentle misty sort...this is like some sort of monsoon."  
  
"You can hardly tell the difference between night and day," Colin added, waving a deck of cards for exploding snap. Ginny shrugged agreeably and took a few cards.  
  
"At least we get to stay inside except for classes," she sighed, "the poor Quidditch team is constantly wet thanks to Oliver Wood."  
  
"Well, it'll be worth it if we win the Cup," Tempest volunteered.   
  
Ginny handed her a few of the cards. "I suppose," she said unenthusiastically.   
  
"Are you okay, Ginny?," Tempest asked anxiously. "You usually seem more interested in Quidditch."  
  
"Yeah," Colin added, "You haven't mentioned the Chudley Cannons for days."  
  
"Don't you get enough of that from Ron?," Ginny demanded a little testily.   
  
Tempest and Colin looked at one another and shrugged. "Have you done that Potions essay for Snape yet?," Tempest said.   
  
"I don't know what ingredient to choose," Colin said, "do you think it would be easier to discuss the uses of Wolfsbane or Feverfew? Or maybe..."  
  
"I did mine," Ginny said shortly, and sneezed so violently the house they had been building exploded with a bang.   
  
Colin and Tempest helped her to her feet, giggling, and suddenly even Ginny was snickering. "You...uh...you've got a little soot..." Colin said, reaching out and rubbing his fingers over her cheek to remove the spot.   
  
"Thanks," Ginny said self-consciously, pulling away to help gather up the cards. "Shall we try again?"   
  
Colin grinned. "You go first," he said.   
  
She started to do just that, and stopped at the sight of Percy standing in front of her, hands on his hips.   
  
"What are you doing, Percy?," she asked curiously.   
  
Percy snorted importantly, lifting his chin. "My duty as a Prefect. That sneeze is quite obviously the start of a cold, Virginia Eileen Weasley, and we don't want any students getting sick, letting alone spreading it around--"  
  
"Not to mention Mum would skin him alive if he let you get sick," Fred added loudly, and Ginny was paralyzed with embarrassment to discover most of the Common Room was watching.   
  
"Never mind that," Percy said, his own ears reddening.   
  
"I'm not sick," Ginny protested indignantly. I just got dust up my nose or something."  
  
"Dunno, Gin," George said seriously. "You have been a little peaked lately."  
  
"Better safe than sorry," Percy added pompously. "Now you just come with me."  
  
Ginny sighed, but she'd lived with six brothers long enough to know when to quit arguing. "Fine," she spat impatiently. "Sorry, Colin." She handed him back his cards and swept away regally.   
"Madame Pomfrey," Percy said importantly, "I've brought my sister to see you."  
  
"Hello, dear," the nurse-who looked rather like Mum trying to get everyone ready for school-said tiredly. "What seems to be the problem?"  
  
"There isn't one," Ginny said petulantly. "I'm fine."  
  
"She's got a cold or something," Percy contradicted.   
  
"Nothing wrong with being a bit under the weather, dear," Madame Pomfrey said, eying her closely so that Ginny wanted to squirm.   
  
"I'm just tired," Ginny insisted, and sneezed again.   
  
Madame Pomfrey smiled. "I have just the thing. Wait here."  
  
She came back with a smoking goblet Ginny eyed dubiously. "This Pepperup Potion will have you feeling better in no time. Down the hatch."  
  
Ginny hesitated, but Percy and Madame Pomfrey both waited unyielding. Sighing, she scrunched up her nose, closed her eyes, and gulped the potion as quickly as she could. To her surprise, it had a rich spicy taste that was pleasantly sweet. It reminded her of the hot pepper jelly Mum sometimes made. She had just begun to think maybe drinking it wasn't so bad when her head began to feel impossibly hot...and then, the next thing she knew, her ears were shooting steam. In spite of herself, Ginny gave a feminine shriek, and rushed for the nearest mirror, which happened to be in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  
  
"Great," she muttered, taking in the full effect of the steam shooting from underneath her auburn hair.   
  
"Ooh," crooned a voice over her shoulder, "You look awful."  
  
Ginny stared into the pearly translucent eyes of the ghost, feeling baleful. "Golly, gee, no wonder you're so popular."  
  
Myrtle let out a bloodcurdling wail and plunged into the toilet, sloshing water across the floor.   
  
"Hey, look out, Weasel!," Malfoy shouted as she slunk out of the bathroom, "your head's on fire!"  
  
Ginny looked between him and the bathroom, trying to decide which was worst and not having much luck.   
  
"Bugger off, Malfoy," Harry's voice said from down the corridor. "You're just jealous because you'll never look that hot."  
  
"I...you...umm...thanks," Ginny stammered, feeling her knees melt as Harry walked up.   
  
He smiled easily. "No problem, I owed you one anyhow, remember?"  
  
She was amazed he had noticed her behavior in Flourish and Blott's at all. "You're wonderful," she said dreamily, then realized what she'd said. Harry was wearing an expression somewhere between amused and uncomfortable. "Way to give whole new meaning to the phrase, 'burning imbecile', Weasley," she muttered under her breath.  
  
"I have to get to Quidditch Practice," Harry said into the pause. "Let me know if he gives you anymore trouble."  
  
"Thanks," she said again, irritated at her own lack of creativity. Harry threw a wave back over his shoulder. Ginny sighed and walked back up to the Common Room.   
  
"Wow. Ginny. Does that hurt?," Tempest asked with open fascination.  
  
"Not exactly," Ginny said, "but I think my brain is starting to sweat."  
  
"Really?," Colin was intrigued. "What does that feel like?" His camera clicked with inhuman speed.  
  
"You know guys, I'm feeling kind of tired," Ginny said. "I think I'm going to bed. Night."  
  
"But, Ginny," Colin called after her, "it's only 6:30."  
--I can't believe he saw me like that, Tom. He'll never think of me as attractive now.-  
  
--Don't be ridiculous. You said he called you hot.-  
  
Ginny blushed so that her head felt even hotter than before.  
  
--Yeah, but I think he meant it literally. Forget it...I'm going to bed. That's the only recourse I have left.-  
  
--You have a very good vocabulary for a twelve year old.-  
  
--Gee, thanks...just what every girl longs to hear. Next thing you know Ron will be saying Hermione force-fed me the dictionary...as if I don't already stick out enough.-  
  
--Standing out is a good way to gain attention...and getting someone's attention is an excellent way to gain power over them...you should think about that.-  
  
--Sure, I have so much control over my life, let alone anyone else's.-  
In spite of the Pepperup Potion, it seemed like Ginny got more and more tired. She found herself fighting to stay awake in Potions while the other students snickered at the tendrils of steam that still escaped from her ears occasionally. Stifling a yawn, she took out her diary and began writing under the edge of the table.   
  
--With every leaf that changes color, I feel a little more homesick.-  
  
--I thought you liked Hogwarts- Tom replied.  
  
--I do. But Autumn has always been my favorite time of year and I feel like I'm too busy to enjoy it. Besides, I keep picturing myself sitting at the kitchen table drinking hot apple cider with Mum while we make donuts. Instead I'm here, being ignored by the brother I spent a year missing and-  
  
"Miss Weasley," Snape said sharply, "have you been listening to a word I've said?"  
  
Ginny gaped, trying to come up with a response that would make him stop glaring.   
  
"I realize your family is short on funds with so many children, but surely you can afford to PAY ATTENTION?"  
  
Anger sparked somewhere below the surface, mingling with and slowly overtaking guilt and embarrassment.   
  
"I don't need to listen to how stupid you think we are to be able to brew a potion," she snapped without thinking, and felt her knees go weak as she realized what she'd said.   
  
Snape's onyx eyes crackled with hidden flames. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for your impertinence, Miss Weasley," he hissed, "Another remark like that and I might feel compelled to draw your behavior to the Headmaster's attention. Are we clear?"  
  
"Yes, sir," she said aloud. "You slimy git," she added under breath, and caught sight of the nearly-hidden grin the Ravenclaw boy sharing her cauldron seemed to be flashing.   
  
"In the meantime, we'll see if you can live up to your claims," the Potions Master continued silkily. "You shall brew your potion without further instruction and at the end of the hour we shall test it."  
  
Crushed with guilt, Ginny stared at her Potions partner. "I'm so sorry."  
  
The Ravenclaw boy's grin appeared again and he leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't be. It's a Giggling Gulp--I have the instructions." He flashed a page of closely written notes at her, making her sag with relief. "It's going to be fun to see the look on his face."  
  
Ginny grinned back as she began tearing hensbane. "Ginny Weasley, by the way."  
  
The boy tipped his head to the side. "You really don't remember me? How embarrassing. My ego will take years in recovery."  
  
Ginny snickered. "I know we were introduced at the beginning of the term, but--"  
  
"We also spent years running around your garden. We were partners in crime," the boy said, shaking his head.  
  
Ginny blinked. "Seriously? When?"  
  
The boy laughed. "Between the ages of two and four. I don't remember either, I just have my parents' word for it."  
  
"Okay," Ginny said slowly, stirring as he began to add the cricket legs.  
  
"Alderley, " the boy supplied.   
  
"Dad's friend from the ministry," Ginny exclaimed, drawing a sharp look from Snape.   
  
"Yup. And I'm Bion." the boy explained.   
  
Ginny frowned thoughtfully, grasping at memory.  
  
"Time's up," Snape said at her shoulder. "The potion looks like a reasonable facsimile," he added with an expression that suggested the words had an extremely unpleasant taste. "But we shall see if it works. Miss Weasley?"  
  
Ginny hesitated, but Bion caught her eye and nodded encouragingly. Squaring her shoulders, Ginny took the ladle and sipped the thick hot pink liquid. The next thing she knew, she began to giggle. She just couldn't help it.   
  
"Ten points from Ravenclaw," Snape snarled, "you weren't supposed to help her with the assignment, Mr. Alderley."  
  
"What was I supposed to do, then," Bion grumbled. "Fail?"  
  
"I..feel...terrible..." Ginny gasped between giggles.  
  
Bion looked at her for a minute, and began to laugh with her. "Don't," he advised. "It was worth it...I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Partner." 


	8. Hogwarts Halloween

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"  
by Jedi Amoira  
*****************  
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! If you like it, PLEASE leave a review! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
Bill--good catch on the birthdays...my personal timeline in my head has Ginny's 11th birthday in November after she starts school, and I'd made an out-of-place reference to her being 11...hopefully it's fixed now. I agree with you on the bright red hair thing, but it's dark and shadowy in the bathroom, and my mental image of Ginny is kind of like Anne of Green Gables--always trying to convince herself her hair isn't as red as it is. I love your reviews! Please keep them up! :-)  
  
***********************   
--If that's what Slytherins are like, I don't understand how you ever thought I'd fit in with them, Tom— Ginny complained by the Common Room fire that night.   
  
--Slytherins can be quite charming when it's to their advantage—Tom replied. Ginny made a face, then realized he couldn't see her face and drew it on the page.  
  
--Sounds like Harry has a little competition—Tom added shrewdly. –Feeling less homesick?—  
  
--Not really. And…not really. No one can compete with Harry. And tomorrow's Halloween. There's going to be a huge feast, and Dumbledore has booked a troupe of dancing skeletons, and Hagrid's making jack-o-lanterns out of these HUGE pumpkins, but—  
  
--Hagrid?—Tom interrupted. –Rubeus Hagrid?—  
  
--Yeah. He's the Keeper of Keys and Grounds and—  
  
-- I don't think you should associate.—  
  
--Why not? Harry does. I might see him there sometime. Anyway, Hagrid's sweet.—  
  
--He's not a good influence. Did you know they expelled him?—  
  
--Ron told me. He may not have finished school but even the Care of Magical Creatures Professor doesn't know as much about animals as Hagrid. It's sweet of you to be concerned, but I can learn a lot from him and I promise not to follow in his footsteps.—  
  
--I suppose I'm satisfied. Sounds like you're looking forward to the feast.—  
  
--Yeah, I know Ron won't ignore me tomorrow…except for last year, we're always together on Halloween. Dad always used to let us kids dress up in costumes like the muggles, and we always picked costumes that complemented each other. And at the end of the night, he'd always wish me a Happy Birthday so I'd wake up already knowing…Even Fred and George are nice to me on Halloween.—  
  
--So why be homesick? You're with most of your family.—  
  
--Yeah, but Hogwarts is so big and empty I feel lost…not like in the Burrow. We're always in one another's laps, it's so cozy. Halloween just won't be the same—  
  
--But that doesn't mean it won't be equally nice. Somehow, I know tomorrow is going to be a very memorable Halloween.—  
  
Ginny sank back into the overstuffed chair, exhausted. She would have gone to her dormitory to get some sleep, but she couldn't manage to gather the energy. She felt as limp and heavy as a wet towel, though she couldn't imagine why. She thought briefly of going to see Madam Pomfrey, then thought of the Pepperup Potion and shuddered. "I'm just feeling sorry for myself," she muttered, surprised that her tongue felt thick. "I'll feel better after the feast with Ron and H—his friends tomorrow."  
  
The Great Hall was dark and full of shadows, the full moon hanging low in the enchanted ceiling sky, the corners lit with jack-o-lanterns carved from pumpkins as large as a garden shed. The various ghosts of Hogwarts shimmered and soared through a room filled with the cheerful clacking of dancing skeleton bones. Ginny stood on tiptoe and craned her neck around looking for Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Students pushed around her, jostling her uncomfortably. "Watcha doing, ickle Ginny?" Fred asked at her shoulder.   
  
"Less looking, more eating, that's the course of action for a proper Weasley," added George. They made a chair of their arms and swung her into it, carrying her to the table as she began to giggle.   
  
The food was delicious, but sitting between Percy and the twins made it hard, if not impossible to enjoy it. "Really, you could try to demonstrate a little civilization," Percy lectured stiffly.   
  
"Us?," Fred asked, sounding hurt.  
  
"Civilization?," George repeated.   
  
Less than a second later, Percy's pumpkin pie exploded, covering Ginny in brown goo as well.  
  
"If only Harry were here, Ginny" crooned George.  
  
"No doubt he'd say you look good enough to eat," Fred swooned.   
  
Ginny wrinkled her nose several times, trying to put out the tension that seemed to be settling inside, sparking fire. "Where are they?" she asked, trying not to sound too affected by the answer.  
  
Fred looked at George. George looked at Fred. They shrugged. "Who knows—haven't seen hide nor hair of them all night. For that matter, where's Nearly Headless Nick?"  
  
"That is a good question, come to think of it," Seamus said down the table. "After all, this is a night for ghosts."  
  
Ginny hardly heard, she was too busy trying to fight back the tears.   
  
Suddenly the thought of listening to Percy argue with the twins with no Happy Birthday from Ron at the end of the night seemed unspeakably depressing. She started to mumble an excuse about taking a shower to get rid of the pumpkin she was wearing, but no one seemed inclined to listen.   
  
She pushed away from the table and wandered upstairs, letting the tears trickle warm and unchecked down her cheeks. The soothing streams of the shower first cooled and then washed them away, so that by the time she emerged, considerably cleaner, she felt almost human again.   
  
Hating the idea of sitting around the Common Room staring at her Charms book or complaining to her diary, and feeling sorry for herself either way, Ginny stood in the middle of the room for a minute. Then, nodding decisively, she gathered up her notebook, her pencil and her telescope and headed out the portrait hole for the Astronomy Tower.  
  
Her head hurt. A sliver of pain seemed to be lodged somewhere inside it, forcing everything on either side apart. The black haze from Myrtle's bathroom seemed to encroach slowly on her vision, and she could feel cold tremors like a whispering voice across her skin. Unsure where she was or where she was going, Ginny turned to get her bearings…  
  
Her cheek was pressed against something cold and wet. She was freezing, too cold to even shiver. Slowly, it began to register that the left side of her body was pressed against the same surface as her cheek. Confused, she pushed herself upright, then winced and fell back as her skull pounded with a throbbing ache. Without any idea how long it took, she pulled herself upright and leaned against the wall. Eventually, she knew where she was…and she wasn't in the Astronomy Tower. She was in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom. Forgetting her head, Ginny whipped her head around in search of her telescope. It was lying haphazardly atop her notebook, on the floor in front of the sink across from the stall she suspected Myrtle was usually in. The mirror hanging over the sink gleamed dully in the shadows, somehow giving the impression of a malicious face…Ginny tried to avoid it, uncomfortably aware of the face from her nightmares, as if it were staring out at her. She could feel a voice like a deep vibration running under her skin, forming words she could almost but not quite understand… She hobbled over to snatch her things up as quickly as she could, only to catch sight of her hand, coated and encrusted with…something red…Ginny jumped, nearly slamming her aching head against the sink. "Oh," she groaned, as her legs sprawled out from under her. "It's…paint?"  
  
"How did--?"  
  
Frowning, more lost than ever, clutching her telescope, Ginny staggered out of the bathroom, water sloshing over her feet, and stopped dead as she caught sight of the wall.   
  
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS IS OPEN. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR—BEWARE!  
  
And it was written in red paint.   
  
"Miss Weasley," McGonagall's voice cracked like a whip behind her, the husky kitten's warmth completely absent, "just what do you think you're doing?"  
  
"P—P—Pro—fess—sor" Ginny faltered, terrified at the prospect of being seen at the scene of such a crime, let alone in her current condition.  
  
"I distinctly remember instructing all students to return to the dorm," Professor McGonagall continued, but her voice seemed a trifle less sharp, as if the sight of Ginny's fear had softened her anger slightly.  
  
"Tha—That's just where I was going," Ginny said, truthfully enough. She could feel Professor McGonagall's eyes boring into her back.   
  
"Miss Weasley—Ginny," she said, almost kindly, "is there something you want to tell me?"  
  
Ginny fought the urge to glance down at her robes. "No, m'am," she said as naturally as she could manage.   
  
The pause that followed was so heavy it seemed to force the air from Ginny's lungs. Just as she started to give in and say something, Professor McGonagall sighed. "In that case I have no choice--"  
  
"Please," Ginny begged, desperate. "Please don't expel me."  
  
McGonagall broke off short. "Why, Ginny," she exclaimed, seemingly before she could stop herself. Then, with her customary crispness, "I won't expel you this time, Miss. Weasley, but I will be taking points from Gryffindor."  
  
"How many?" Ginny held her breath, wondering how many. A similar infraction had cost Harry and Hermione 50 each, and she'd already lost points this week…  
  
"20 should be sufficient," McGonagall said finally. "And you'll have to serve detention. Tomorrow."  
  
Ginny's birthday.   
  
But if it meant she could stay at school, Ginny would do almost anything. "Now, return to your dormitory immediately," McGonagall added crisply, "before I change my mind." Ginny wasn't sure how she knew with her back to her, but Professor McGonagall was wearing a smile.  
  
  
"Yes, Professor McGonagall," she said, bolting for Gryffindor tower, less afraid that McGonagall might change her mind than catch sight of the paint. Halfway down the hall she slowed half a step to shout back over her shoulder, "Thank you!"  
  
The Common Room was dark and deserted to Ginny's everlasting relief. She crept through it and into the First Year Girls' dorm, hoping it was too dark for anyone to notice her appearance if they weren't already asleep. Luck, having abandoned her to Professor McGonagall, appeared to be on her side, however. She slid her things carefully under the bed so they wouldn't be broken by mistake while she was asleep, hastily stripped off her robe and hid it under the blankets at the foot of her bed before pulling on her pajamas.  
  
The next morning, Ginny lay in bed pretending to be asleep until everyone else had left for breakfast. The instant she was sure they were gone, she dove under the bed and pulled out the diary.   
  
--Tom, you have to help me.—  
  
--Pranks on your brothers again? Isn't it a bit early to assume they've forgotten your birthday?—  
  
--A lot more important.---  
  
--Harry, then?—  
  
--More important.—  
  
--More important than the famous Harry Potter? This is serious!—  
  
--Tom, you have to help me!! I went to the Astronomy Tower last night, and the next thing I knew I was waking up under the sink in Moaning Myrtle's creepy bathroom! I can't remember where I was or what I did last night…but there's paint all down my front! Do you think I'm going crazy, Tom?—  
  
--Of course not. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation. Were you making Quidditch banners with your friends?–  
  
--I don't think so…But, Tom, there's a HUGE message painted on the wall, and it's red…I think I may have done something horrible—  
  
--That's ridiculous…I know you better than anyone else, and I know you wouldn't do anything like that.—  
  
--You do understand me…you're the only one who does. But, Tom, why don't I remember? Where did the paint come from? And WHAT am I going to do about it?—  
  
--I still think you were making Quidditch banners and forgot…you've been kind of absent-minded lately.—  
  
--You're right…It's just…I'm so tired. WHY am I so tired?—  
  
--You've been to see the nurse, right?—  
  
--Well, yes.—  
  
--What did she say?—  
  
--She gave me that awful Pepperup Potion and sent me on my way.—  
  
--So it's probably nothing serious…I think you're just working too hard, trying to prove you belong at Hogwarts.—  
  
--Do you think that's all it is?—  
  
--You just need to relax, Ginny. Everything will be fine. I'll take care of you. Starting with your robes…there's a simple stain-removing charm. You're good with charms— 


	9. Detention

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power   
by Jedi Amoira  
**********************  
  
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! If you like it, PLEASE leave a review! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
*****************  
  
  
"Well, if it isn't Gingersnaps," a teasing voice greeted as she walked into the Transfiguration classroom.   
  
Ginny jumped.   
  
"Sorry," she said, trying to ignore the laughter that made her face begin to burn. "I wasn't expecting anyone except Professor McGonagall to be here."  
  
"I haven't seen you since I visited the twins summer before last," Lee Jordan continued. "What are you in for?"  
  
Ginny didn't really know how to explain, even if she'd wanted to. "I was out after hours," she said shortly.   
  
If Lee was offended by the shortness of her answer, he didn't show it. "I never had you figured for such a mundane offense. Careful, Gingersnaps, or you'll leave me disappointed."  
  
"Honestly, Jordan," Ginny snapped, forgetting to be shy, "what did I ever do to give you the impression I might be exciting?"  
  
Lee grinned and bowed, numerous braids brushing his face, sparking random speculation as to whether his silky dark skin could possibly be as soft as it looked. Ginny's face flamed brighter, but Lee didn't seem inclined to comment, for which she was grateful. "Anyone who could pull one over on Fred and George has to be anything but boring," he proclaimed.   
  
Ginny stared.   
  
Professor McGonagall walked into the room forestalling further comments, and announced that detention would be spent feeding the various animals for a future second-year lesson, and cleaning out the cages.   
  
No sooner were the last edges of her deep green velvet robes swirling out of sight than Lee looked Ginny straight in the eye and announced, "You're doing the cages."  
  
"Oh no, I'm not," Ginny retorted.  
  
"Oh, yes, you are," Lee said calmly. "I'll have you know you owe me. Do you have any idea how many different colors my teeth have been lately thanks to those dungbombs of yours?"  
  
Ginny snickered, her embarrassment forgotten. "They were classic," she said smugly. "Okay, Jordan, I'll shovel dung for you, you big sissy."  
  
"Sissy!! I took on the wrath of Gred and Forge instead of selling you out, didn't I?"  
  
"I guess you did," Ginny admitted, reaching into the corners of the first cage. "Why?"  
  
"As a man gets older, he starts to think about what he'll leave behind," Lee proclaimed with the air of a man waxing poetic. "One has to encourage and nurture those who will carry the torch of his work when he is gone…"  
  
Ginny was laughing so hard she narrowly avoided dumping cedar chips all over the cool even stones of the floor. "What's in it for me?," she demanded.  
  
Lee beamed. "I was hoping you'd ask that," he said with a wink. "For starters, I know how much you love your brothers' socks…and I happen to have inside access…"  
  
"Not bad," Ginny admitted, "but part of the thrill is the theft."  
  
"No one said I was going to steal them for you," Lee returned without missing a beat, and winked. "Strictly aid and abet."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And," Lee paused melodramatically, "a prime Quidditch seat next to the best announcer Hogwarts has ever seen…"  
  
Ginny decided to let Lee's delusions of grandeur pass for the moment. "What's the catch…what exactly does your heir apparent have to do?"  
  
"That's the beauty, Ginger, all you have to do is be yourself…you may not be into quantity, but the quality is worth the wait."  
  
"So," Ginny said, just to be sure, "the only pranks you expect are the ones I decide to do myself?"  
  
"Sure…if I wanted a patsy, any kid—say Creevy would do—I'm after art."  
  
"Okay, Jordan," Ginny said several cages later, "you have yourself a deal." She put down her rather scrotty-looking rag and held out a hand now considerably less than spotless.   
  
Lee clasped it, his fingers broad and long, his hand sliding smoothly over hers, swallowing it in warmth, and shook it firmly. Instead of dropping it, he raised it slightly and touched his lips to the back of her wrist. Ginny snatched her arm back, nearly falling over backward in the process. "What was that?"  
  
Lee looked a little startled himself, but his nonchalance seemed to be coming back to him pretty quickly. His shrug looked reasonably unconcerned. "Just a gentlemanly gesture."  
  
"You a gentleman," Ginny snorted. "That'll be day."  
  
"You may have a point," Lee admitted, smirking cockily. "So let's just keep this between us."  
  
Ginny eyed him closely. "Translation—don't tell Fred and George you kissed me."  
  
"Tell them, and the next time you play a prank, I won't be around to blame," Lee reminded her.  
  
Ginny tipped her head to the side and grinned. "You have a point," she said.  
  
They left the classroom together a little while later, and much to Ginny's discomfort, Lee seemed to be looking at her strangely on their way to the Great Hall. "Hey, Ginger, don't you have a birthday coming up soon?"  
  
Ginny paused, torn between amazement the twins' friend knew that much, and irritation that he didn't seem to know when. "As a matter of fact, I do," she said eventually.   
  
"Well…Happy Birthday," Lee said.   
  
Ginny smiled her thanks as they parted ways at the Gryffindor table. She half-expected Ron—or even Harry, who surely knew by now—to say something when she sat down across from them, but they seemed distracted by something and hardly noticed she was there. She felt a sting of deep, painful annoyance, but bought herself off with the patently hollow suspicion they were planning a surprise party for later. 


	10. Hanging Cat, Helpful Owl

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power   
by Jedi Amoira  
**********************  
  
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! If you like it, PLEASE leave a review! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
Bill-I was thrilled you reviewed so quickly!! You're closer than it looks about Ginny's b-day...I hope you don't mind my little twists. ;-)  
*****************  
  
"Hey, Ginny," Tempest greeted her, "you've been awfully scarce lately. It seems like I haven't seen you in days."  
  
"She's probably been taking the chance to explore the castle," Colin suggested through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.   
  
Ginny nodded agreement, then stopped. "What chance?"  
  
"Well, uh, you know," Colin said, confused. "What happened to Mrs. Norris."  
  
"Mrs. Norris?," Ginny repeated with a frown.  
  
"Where have you been?," Tempest demanded, not entirely rhetorically. "She was hanging from the light fixture in the hallway last night? Right next to that message Filch keeps scrubbing?"  
  
Ginny dropped her fork with a clatter, and nearly slid under the table when Harry turned to look directly at her with concern in his bright green eyes. "Hanging?," she repeated faintly, struggling not to sound hysterical. "Cats don't hang."  
  
"Not usually," Tempest agreed. "Are you sure you haven't heard this?"  
  
At Ginny's weak shake of her head, Tempest explained, "She was Petrified."  
  
"So she's…"  
  
"No," Harry hurried to assure her, "just frozen. Professor Dumbledore says they'll be able to revive her as soon as the Mandrakes are ready."  
  
Ginny burst into tears.   
  
She couldn't even decide if it was because she was scared she had somehow done something to the cat, or because she was relieved it wasn't permanent, or because Harry's attempt to reassure her was so overwhelming…  
  
Tempest, Colin, and Hermione stared at one another. Harry jumped, looking guilty as if he felt personally responsible for upsetting Ginny even though he'd only been trying to make her feel better. Ron, who hadn't been paying any attention at all, turned and stared. "Ginny? What's wrong with you?"  
  
"Ron," Hermione hissed sharply. "Try to be sympathetic. Your sister is upset about Mrs. Norris."  
  
"Good Heavens," Ron shouted, obviously stumped, "WHY?"  
  
The thought of what Ron would say if he knew Ginny thought her involvement was even remotely possible coupled with the memory of when she was little and Ron used to bring her hot chocolate and hug her when she cried made Ginny sob that much harder. Harry was looking all around as if hoping to find a magic cure somewhere in the room.   
  
"I know you like cats, Gin," Ron said, trying to sound reasonable, "but Mrs. Norris is a menace. You can't so much as sneeze without her telling Filch about it; it's practically a holiday to have her out of commission!"  
  
Ginny, trying desperately to get herself under control before Harry became convinced she constantly had hysterics and ought to be avoided, and only managed to make herself cough when she inhaled a little too energetically. Tempest thumped her violently on the back, nearly knocking her into her plate at the same time Colin tried to hand her a glass of pumpkin juice. Hermione smiled sympathetically and used the sleeve of her robe to mop up the puddle spreading across the table. "Ron," she warned, shaking her head slightly.   
  
"What?," Ron demanded in a much-suffering tone. Before quickly adding, with an expression of dawning realization, "Temporarily! She's only out of commission temporarily, Gin. Honestly!"  
  
To Ginny's relief, the post owls swept into the room, temporarily drawing everyone's attention away from her.   
  
Or almost everyone's attention, anyway. Harry was still watching her with a quiet, thoughtful look deep in his emerald eyes. His scrutiny made her feel warm and sweet and distinctly uncomfortable at the same time. Hoping to assuage his concern, she attempted a weak smile, only to feel her lips wobble dangerously…  
  
Errol tumbled headlong into her lap, a limp knot of ragged feathers—saved by the owl. "Thanks, Errol," Ginny muttered the words so softly she didn't even think the owl could hear them. She lowered her goblet, letting him drink what Hermione had managed to salvage. He hooted a soft thanks and lurched into the air uncertainly. She watched until he had more or less disappeared from sight, before glancing down at the package.   
  
"Care package?," Harry asked, looking incredibly awkward.  
  
"Care package?," echoed Fred. "That's no mere Care Package, my friend."  
  
"Not today," George added.  
  
"Today is a special day for ickle Ginny," trilled Fred, ignoring her glare of embarrassment.   
  
"Today is her birthday," concluded George in sing-song.   
  
"Which is why we got you this," Fred added, dropping another package on top of the first.  
  
"Thanks," Ginny said, eyeing the package suspiciously. The twins smirked.  
  
"And the--" George shuddered dramatically—"Prefect is busy with his pressing duties, but he asked us to give you this." He waved a large, floppy envelope with a dramatic flourish.  
  
"But," Fred continued importantly, suddenly snatching the packages from her lap, "you can't have them yet."  
  
Ginny crossed her arms and scowled. "Why not?"  
  
"Because you have to come upstairs with us," George explained. "Since we went through all the effort to steal a cake."  
  
"And ice cream," Fred said with an air of self-congratulation.   
  
In spite of herself, Ginny had to grin. "So what are we waiting on?"  
  
"Happy Birthday, Ginny," Hermione said enthusiastically as they all stood up to go to the Common Room. "I'd love to help you celebrate, but I really have to get to the library. I've wasted too much time as it is."   
  
Ron stared after the waving ends of her bushy hair as she disappeared in a flash. "What's was that all about?"  
  
"Probably worried about our next exam, knowing Hermione," Harry said with a shrug. A sudden thrill coursed through Ginny as she realized he was walking so close to her his fingers nearly grazed her hand.   
  
"She needs to sort out her priorities," Ron muttered to himself, then shrugged at Ginny. "Mental, that one," he explained. 


	11. Surprise Party

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power   
by Jedi Amoira  
**********************  
  
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! If you like it, PLEASE leave a review! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
Bill--I meant to reply to your remark about seeing some of the background of some of Ginny's older friendships earlier and accidentally overlooked it. I hadn't actually intended to do much with them in this story, in spite of the fact that they do seem like pretty interesting material, but I am hoping to write a sequel or two that may develop them a lot more. And, since you asked, I've been mulling over whether or not there's any way to elaborate on them in this story after all. The twist I promised you is coming up. :-)   
  
Thoughtful Phoenix--Thanks so much for your review!:-) I hope you find the rest of the story as easy to relate as Ginny's problems with her family.   
********************  
  
  
The cake was waiting in the Common Room as promised, candles merrily alight. The twins were hardly through the door before they started singing Happy Birthday at the tops of their lungs, and Harry and Ron immediately joined. Ginny was laughing almost too hard to blush—they really had a surprise party planned!  
  
She didn't have to decide on a wish…she already knew what she wanted more than anything. The flames wavered, hesitating, and went out. Ginny's grin deepened—she had the urge to clasp her hands together and chortle with anticipation, but no girl with five brothers could do any such thing and hope to keep her self respect, so she rounded on the twins and said, "Now, about those presents…"  
  
Laughing, the twins tossed them at her; she'd been through enough family Quidditch games to catch them with ease. "What should I open first?," she demanded of the group at large.   
  
"Perfect Percy's," George announced promptly.   
  
"Yeah…we already know it will be something boring," added Fred with a martyred sigh.   
  
Ginny struggled not to laugh. "Be nice," she admonished, shaking her head.   
  
The twins looked affronted, which only made it harder to keep a straight face. She hastily turned her attention to the package. The twins were right—not that she'd ever actually doubted. What use she had for a dusty looking copy of "Advice to the Aspiring" by Tru Lee Ambitious , Ginny couldn't begin to imagine. Still the thought was what counted…  
  
She tried to open the package from home, but the string tied around the outside wouldn't come unknotted. She pulled at in vain, feeling ridiculous under the eyes of Tempest, Colin, Fred, George and Ron, not to mention—  
  
"Here, let me," Harry said. Ginny couldn't believe the sudden, knee-weakening warmth that washed through her at the sound of such a simple little sentence. To her infinite relief and her infinite sorrow, Harry didn't seem to notice. He gave the string a couple of sharp tugs, and it fell apart. Ginny didn't know whether to feel grateful or annoyed. "How do you--" she began, and lost the rest of the sentence somewhere in the impossibly green depths of Harry's eyes. "Thanks," she finished limply, back to being shy. Harry smiled, as if he were trying to be encouraging, but Ginny was a little relieved when he stepped back so that he was half hidden behind Fred.   
  
Inside were a brightly colored scarf from Charlie, a necklace of glass beads from Bill, a rubber duck from Dad, a box of donuts from Mum, and a page torn from Witch Weekly that had an interview with some of the players from the Chudley Cannons about their plans for the upcoming season. "Hey!," Ron shouted, grabbing it, "Why didn't they send this to me?"  
  
"Ginny--" Colin began to explain.  
  
Ginny shook her head and mouthed, "Nevermind." Maybe Ron's behavior ought to bother her, but she was too happy, and he didn't mean anything by it. Colin didn't look convinced, but nodded and lapsed into silence.  
  
"Ours next," Fred commanded.   
  
"Yeah. Sorry, Ronnikins, but we already know yours will make us look bad," George elaborated. "And we'd like a little appreciation."  
  
Ron was even more hidden than Harry, but Ginny could see enough to know the tops of his ears went pink. She grinned sympathetically; the twins always teased him about how nice he was to her on her birthday, and even though he was always embarrassed, she knew Ron didn't really mind…it was family tradition.   
  
Making a face at the blinding random colors, Ginny broke the seal on wrapping apart, and barely had time to register the paper pulling itself up into the air like a Howler, let alone the sound of the twins' voices, artificially high and shrill, yelling at her before she received a violent coughing fit. Windmilling her arms wildly, she managed to escape the equally loudly-colored smoke more by knocking her chair over than fanning the air away from her, but it worked. "How dare you be so well-behaved," Fred's voice was trilling. "Quit making the rest of us look bad—this minute," George warbled close behind. "Ginny Weasely we're going to send you right home--" threatened Fred. "If you don't put a toe out of line immediately," demanded George. The present sounded firmly confident. The twins, however, seemed to be trying to edge out of her line of sight. "Happy" Fred's falsetto concluded. "Birthday," George's finished, and the mock-Howler burst into confetti that rained down, flecking the room and its inhabitants with birthday cheer.  
  
"Sorry," George said from somewhere behind Tempest.  
  
"Couldn't resist," Fred added, almost incomprehensible through the noise of Colin's camera.   
  
"Oh," Ginny retorted dryly, careful not to look at Harry and lose her nerve or her train of thought. "What a great present. I can't imagine why you thought I'd like Ron's more."  
  
She caught sight of Ron out of the corner of her eye as she spoke. He looked so sick, she almost wondered if he was going to belch up slugs again—she had to admit to a certain academic curiosity since she hadn't gotten to see it the first time and was forced to make do with descriptions from Colin and the twins, but she didn't like seeing Ron uncomfortable. She was considering whether or not she ought to say something when the twins crawled up on their knees. "It was only a joke."  
  
"Can't you take a joke?"  
  
"Here's your real present."  
  
"Yeah, mercy."  
  
"Mercy, Snaps."  
  
"Well.." Ginny said, crossing her arms and pretending to consider…fully aware she would let them off until their birthday, at which time she was going to play the best trick she and Lee together could muster. "Let's see the present."  
  
George put a smooth, solid rock in her hand.   
  
Ginny glanced down at it with as much disdain as she could muster. "A rock? That's it?"  
  
"A rock," Fred confirmed. "But not just any rock."  
  
"Remember that rock we charmed as a light?"  
  
"This one makes a set."  
  
"Yeah, but they're not identical like us," George said with a smirk.   
  
"This one is charmed to pick up the Wizard's Wireless Network," Fred explained smugly.  
  
"Really?," Tempest demanded. "That's awesome!"  
  
"Yeah," George said humbly. "Might be a little temperamental, though."  
  
"Still!," Ginny exclaimed, attacking them both with a hug, "Thanks you guys!"  
  
The twins grinned broadly and hugged her in return.   
  
"Okay, Ron," Fred said generously.  
  
"Do your worst," George invited complacently.  
  
/And/, Ginny thought in spite of herself, /It had better be good to make up for not being around to wish me a Happy Birthday last night./  
  
"I," Ron said, looking even sicker than before. "I…erm…"   
  
"Ron," Harry said, with a sudden look of realization, "you don't mean--"  
  
/But/, Ginny realized, looking at the flaming tops of Ron's ears, /that's exactly what he does mean/. Suddenly, she was the one who felt sick.   
  
"Maybe she should open ours," Tempest interjected hastily. "Right, Colin?"  
  
"Ooh," Colin said enthusiastically. "Yeah…I'm dying to see what you think of it, Ginny. If it works really well, I might try to take one home to my dad for Christmas—he's always working long hours as a postman and I'm sure he'd be fascinated by anything magic, especially it was something like this--"  
  
"I'll go get it," Tempest finished, disappearing in the direction of the girl's dormitory.   
  
Ginny sat still, trying not to think about how she felt, and trying not to glance in Ron's direction. It was an undertaking made all the harder by the desire to see what he had to say for himself, but she already knew he didn't have an excuse. No excuse except the one she'd been trying to ignore all year…he was too busy to remember her. Her tongue felt heavy and bitter with disgust. She wished she had something to drink.   
  
It seemed ages and no time at all before Tempest finally ran back into the room and handed her a plain pasteboard box. "This is from Colin and me—my brother picked it up for us when they went Hogsmeade."  
  
"Blaise?" Ginny asked.  
  
"No," Tempest answered, obviously trying not to snicker."Blaise is my sister, and she would have picked it up for us, only she's a second year and isn't allowed to go to Hogsmeade yet. Forrest is my brother."   
  
"Oh." Ginny vaguely remembered him now. Forrest was a seventh year Gryffindor. In fact… he was a Prefect, but if she mentioned that in front of Fred and George, she'd never get to open her present.  
  
"It's a coffee mug," Colin said. Unnecessarily.  
  
"I see," Ginny said, trying to muster enthusiasm. /Just what I need…another reminder they don't serve coffee here/.  
  
"You put water in it," Tempest said, obviously seeing the non-plussed look on her face, "and the mug turns into coffee."  
  
"You don't even have to say an incantation or anything!," Colin added in a rush.   
  
Ginny didn't know what to say. It was almost enough to make her forget about Ron.  
  
"I…you…WOW! Thanks, you guys," she sputtered in amazement. Tempest and Colin beamed at one another before mobbing her in a huge hug.   
  
They were finishing off the last of the cake and playing a raucous game of Exploding Snap—in which Ron and Harry were both oddly silent—when everyone else began filing in. Ginny wasn't sorry for the end to the party…it had been a long, tiring, and thought-provoking—but mostly happy she supposed—day, and she needed rest and some time to think. 


	12. A Late Chat

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"  
by Jedi Amoira  
*****************  
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! If you like it, PLEASE leave a review! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
*******************  
  
--Everyone was talking about that message—  
  
--The one on the wall?—  
  
--THE CHAMBER OF SECERETS IS OPEN, ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE. What's the Chamber of Secrets?—  
  
--Don't any of your teachers know?—  
  
--Don't you? I thought you knew everything.--  
  
--Well…since you put it like that…—  
  
--Quit playing and tell me, Tom—  
  
--Why so touchy all of a sudden?—  
  
--You know why…I think maybe that message has something to do with me.—  
  
--I already told you, that's ridiculous. You don't even know what it is.—  
  
--Well…what is it?—  
  
--Okay, well you know the school was founded over a thousand years ago by 4 teachers: loyal Helga Hufflepuff, learned Rowena Ravenclaw, noble—Ginny could almost picture Tom's eyes rolling, which seemed slightly strange to her since she didn't even know what Tom was supposed to look like—Godric Gryffindor, and the most powerful of them all, Salazar Slytherin.—  
  
--The most powerful? I thought they were all kind of equal or—  
  
--Revisionist History…they have to make them sound about the same, or the people in other houses would feel inferior. Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted—  
  
--Sorry.—  
  
--Ginny, do you mind? Things went pretty well for a while, but eventually Gryffindor started to think maybe he knew better than Slytherin…he thought that Slytherin was overly cautious in wanting to limit the school to pureblood families, even though it was during the time muggles were hunting us down like deer and muggle-borns were obviously a threat to other students—  
  
--You don't believe that's true now, though, do you, Tom? I mean, Hermione is one of the nicest people I know and—  
  
--Muggles will never be able to understand us… you can't control what you don't understand, and you hate what you can't control; they'll always be a threat, don't kid yourself otherwise.— Ginny shivered, but Tom couldn't see, and was still continuing his explanation. –Slytherin tried his best to make the others see reason, but no one would listen, so he finally decided to leave, rather than watch the school he'd worked so hard to build become a desecration. But before he left, he built a secret chamber deep within the school, concealing it so that none but his true heir would be able to find and open it, unleashing the forces within to cleanse the school of contamination—  
  
--Contamination? You mean…but—Ginny stopped, completely at a loss. Eventually—she didn't know how much later—she wrote—but what does that have to do with Mrs. Norris?—  
  
--Mrs. Norris?—  
  
--The groundskeepers' cat. She's been attacked. Something…froze her or something…But she doesn't have anything to do with muggles.—She frowned trying to think. –For that matter, I'm not the Heir of Slytherin…am I?—  
  
Somehow the letters wavering up through the page gave her the impression of someone trying very hard not to laugh, and she felt a twinge of annoyance. It wasn't funny. –No, dearest, you definitely aren't.—  
  
--But…then...if I'm not doing these things, who is? Someone has to be.—  
  
--This isn't the first time the Chamber has been opened, actually.—  
  
--It's not?—  
  
--It was opened while I was at school…a young woman actually died.—  
  
--Oh, Tom!! What if someone dies this time? Was she the one that opened it?—  
  
--Sometimes you really are a silly girl, Ginny Weasley.—  
  
--Well, if she didn't, who did?—  
  
--Do you remember me telling you I went to school with Hagrid?—  
  
--Of course. You said he'd been expelled, and you didn't think I should be associating…Hagrid? Now who's being ridiculous?—  
  
--It's true. –  
  
--He…he seemed so nice.—  
  
--Not all evil is ugly and unattractive, you know.—  
  
--Do you think I ought to tell someone?—  
  
--NO!!—Ginny blinked at the sudden venom of the word. –I mean—Tom continued a little more reasonably—he was allowed to stay as the Groundskeeper's Assistant because it was thought he only opened it out of pity for the monster inside, so maybe it wasn't him this time. I'm sure they're keeping an eye on him. Dumbledore knows all about it.—  
  
--He does?—  
  
--Sure. He was teaching Transfiguration at the time.—  
  
Footsteps sounded behind her. Ginny jumped and hastily dropped the diary out of sight under the couch. "Thought you went to bed, Gin," Ron said.   
  
Ginny half-snorted and half-sighed, pushing the hair back off of her face. "I couldn't sleep. What's it to you?"  
  
"So I forgot your birthday. Why waste time getting mad when you could get even?"  
  
"I'm not mad," Ginny snapped. "And I'm not getting even, either." She concluded in a mutter so soundless she wasn't even sure she'd actually spoken the words, "What's the point—it's not like I could make you notice."  
  
"What?" Ron looked startled.   
  
"I said—I'm not mad!"  
  
"So then what are you sitting up for?," Ron asked skeptically.  
  
"Oh, right…I forgot, if I need to think, it must be about you," Ginny said snidely.   
  
"Well, you're obviously upset about something," Ron shot back, "so if it's not me forgetting your birthday, then what is it?"  
  
Ginny hesitated. She wanted more than anything in the world to tell him what was bothering the way she always had before he went to school, to have him tell her with firm and gentle confidence that she hadn't done anything too awful to be loved, or too permanent to be fixed, to have him soothe her with hot chocolate and wrap her in the protection of his hugs…but how did you even begin to tell the big brother you idolized more than anything else on earth you thought you might be loosing your mind? Even if she knew, she wasn't sure he was that big brother anymore…he didn't care about her enough to remember her birthday, let alone love her even if she were somehow responsible for helping Slytherin terrorize the school she'd waited her whole life to attend with some awful monster. Not that it mattered, because even if he did, he couldn't do anything about it except try to protect her and end up getting into trouble…  
  
"It's not still Mrs. Norris?"  
  
"It's just…" Ginny began and stopped with sigh. Finally she managed, "what if Mrs. Norris is only the beginning? What if Hogwarts isn't safe?"  
  
"So that's it! Honestly, Gin, stuff like this hardly ever happens at Hogwarts. They'll catch the culprit in no time—I just hope he has time to petrify Filch before he's expelled."  
  
Ron looked as if he was afraid she would faint. Actually, Ginny wasn't sure that was too far from the truth. She felt as if all the energy had suddenly leaked out through her face.   
  
Then she noticed Harry waving his arms wildly in the stairwell and wondered if it were possible to die of embarrassment.   
  
"Harry," said a stiff voice, "What do you think you are doing?" And, belatedly, Ginny understood. He'd been trying to warn Ron back to bed.   
  
"Er…Sleepwalking?" Harry suggested. Ginny couldn't see them well in the shadows, but she knew Percy must have given him a good imitation of Mum's famous look, because he shrugged sheepishly and disappeared in a hurry.   
  
"Ron!," Percy admonished imperiously, his robe flying behind him like a chastening banner as he descending the rest of the stairs. "Just what do you think--"  
  
He stopped, slightly confused. "Ginny?"  
  
" 'smy fault, Percy," she said tiredly. "I came down because I couldn't sleep and Ron came down to talk to me."  
  
"I didn't know you'd been having nightmares," Percy said suspiciously.   
  
"It wasn't a nightmare, exactly," Ginny said, avoiding the issue of whether or not she'd been having nightmares. "I just couldn't stop thinking about…"  
  
"What happened to Mrs. Norris is very unsettling…especially to the young and impressionable," Percy said sympathetically. "But the other prefects and I are here to take care of you, and Dumbledore will have the situation in no time. The problem is, rules are rules, Ginny, first year or not. No one is supposed to be in the Common Room after Lights Out."  
  
"You're right," she said submissively. "It won't happen again."  
  
"That's a good girl. Ron, after you." Ginny watched Percy herd Ron up the stairs; she knew it was a comical sight, but she didn't feel the slightest urge to laugh. Sighing sadly, she gathered up the discarded and went to bed.  
  
And had nightmares.   
  
~~She could see the face more clearly now, a ripply and dim reflection like the mirror in Myrtle's bathroom. Large eyes that reminded her of Lucius Malfoy's-- large and clear in a way that should have been attractive, but had a cold, unpleasant edge—looked at her from under a thick peak of wavy dark hair that almost looked too perfect. Full lips moved, forming words, words she couldn't hear or see, but only feel…feel coiling about her like the tight, squeezing coils of a snake, burning into her skin like a burning brand, marking her…  
  
She wanted to run, but the coils held her in place and she couldn't move…a girl was laying in a heap at her feet, her dark hair snaking in thin trails through what looked like a puddle of water on the floor, her skin unnaturally white, her face unnaturally still…something in the way her hands hung limply at her sides seemed familiar, and Ginny tried to scream. She could hear laughter in air, cold and high and mocking, and for some reason she remembered Tom's words earlier as clearly as if they were being spoken. "Sometimes you really are a silly little girl."~~ 


	13. A Legend in Action

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"  
by Jedi Amoira  
*****************  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
Bill-I think that's exactly how Ginny feels about Ron forgetting her b-day...he's always been her best friend, and the person she most wanted to be like and impress, and it seems like he doesn't even know like she's alive...she's feeling pretty hurt right now. I'm glad you liked Blaise's cameo...I enjoyed that myself.  
  
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She had the dream every night that week, and every night the face seemed a little clearer. She waited, half anxious to know who it was the face reminded her of so strongly, half-terrified by what might happen when it was finally visible. Ginny had never been so glad to see Saturday in her entire life. Quidditch was always thrillingly welcome--now it was absolutely necessary as a diversion from her fears. Even if it hadn't been, she'd never had a chance to sit with the announcer at a Quidditch game before, let alone see Harry Potter play, and now she was going to do both at the same time.   
  
After snatching a pair of Percy's socks just to make herself feel better, she met Lee quietly in the Common Room before the game, and they walked down to the box together. "Ready to see a legend in action, Ginger?" Lee asked with a wink, picking up the magical megaphone.   
  
Ginny snickered.   
  
Professor McGonagall glanced over at them. "Legend, is it? I don't know where you get your delusions, Jordan."  
  
Lee brought a hand to his heart, miming mortal wounds.   
  
Ginny laughed harder.   
  
She hadn't felt this happy, this energetic ...this free since she'd gotten on the train.   
  
The teams walked out onto the pitch far below, a kaleidoscope of green and silver, gold and red dots. As if their red hair didn't make them visible enough, Fred and George were waving their bats like the Royal Family on Parade. Alicia and Katie barely looked awake, but from the stories Ginny had heard, in this case looks were most definitely deceptive. Angelina's dark skin glowed, making her elegant in the midst of chaos. Ginny wondered if it was her imagination or if Fred kept shooting glances in Angelina's direction. Oliver looked tense, but prepared. And Harry--he was just...Harry. Ginny sighed, glad the thunderous applause from the stands covered the sound.  
  
Burly, intimidating Flint shook Oliver's hand, Madam Hooch blew a violent blast on her whistle, and the 14 players rose into the dark sky.   
  
Harry floated in lazy circles, looking almost like a Phoenix circling overhead. Malfoy shot underneath him, shouting something. Ginny wondered if he were asking for directions.   
  
A Bludger hurtled at Harry, and Ginny caught her breath in sudden fear, but Harry wasn't the youngest Seeker in a century for nothing, with perfectly honed instincts, he ducked and the Bludger flew harmless overhead. Ginny breathed a prayer of thanks, hopelessly entangled with a gasp of awed appreciation. She could see George fly close to Harry, and hoped he was putting her relief as he gave the Bludger a satisfying thwack toward the nearest Slytherin. The Bludger, however, had other ideas, and headed right back for Harry again. Ginny frowned. "Bludgers aren't supposed to do that, are they?," she demanded.  
  
"No," Lee confirmed, his voice low and tense, as Harry dropped to avoid the Bludger and George batted it neatly in the direction of Malfoy. Ginny would have loved to see Malfoy take a hit, but the Bludger just shot at Harry's head again. "It's obviously not trying to unseat as many players as possible," Lee muttered, careful to hold the megaphone away from his mouth. "Why don't they call time out?"  
  
Fred hit the Bludger off of Harry, and Ginny realized disconcertedly that instead of the usual pride she felt in brothers Quidditch skills, she was just grateful they were to take care of Harry.   
  
Lee seemed to be equally distracted--from what the twins had said, Ginny had the impression Professor McGonagall usually spent most of the game yelling at him, but she hadn't had to remonstrate him for a single remark. He just mechanically reported the score with each new goal and stared. Ginny didn't much blame him. She had never heard of anything like this, and as if the rogue Bludger weren't enough, it was raining so heavily she couldn't begin to imagine how Alicia, Katie, and Angelina could still pass the Quaffle, let alone how Fred and George kept their bats.  
  
After what seemed like ages, she finally saw George signal to Wood for time out. Maybe it was just her own impatience to see Harry on the ground and safe, but Wood seemed to hesitate. Finally, though they landed, and Madam Hooch strode over to join them. "Are they going to ask for an inquiry?"  
  
Lee shook his head worriedly. "If they do, they'll have to forfeit," he said grimly.   
  
"But that Bludger is trying to kill Harry!," Ginny nearly shouted.   
  
Lee didn't try to correct her, and neither did Professor McGonagall. Madam Hooch's whistle turned her blood icy with fear. Ginny turned back to the field, and saw Gryffindor Team rising back into the air.   
  
One thing was quickly apparent--Ginny would have loved to see Harry in flying contest with her brother. She'd always thought Charlie was amazing, but Harry would have given him stiff competition if Charlie had been around over the summer. Harry looped, spiraled, and rolled in ways that looked impossible, drawing confused but admiring laughter from the stands, and Ginny felt some of her worry abate. The Bludger couldn't hope to keep up with him through so many speed and direction changes.   
  
Ginny knew the exact instant Harry saw the Snitch--she could feel his anticipation so strongly her skin tingled. Time seemed to stop as he hung in mid-air, his eyes narrowed on something only he could see near Malfoy's left ear, and started again with an bone-shattering jolt as the Bludger smashed into him.   
  
Ginny bit into her lip, determined she wasn't going to scream, and heard--to her own amazement--McGonagall give a small shriek beside her.   
  
"And Potter is going to get the Snitch--or die trying!," Lee proclaimed into the magical megaphone. Ginny, unappreciative of the figure of speech, glared at him, but he was leaning forward, intent on the field, and never noticed, and she didn't really blame him.   
  
Harry lunged at Malfoy, and, worried as she was, Ginny couldn't entirely suppress a spurt of satisfaction at the look on Malfoy's face as he spun wildly out of the way. She saw a flicker of triumph on Harry's face, and he toppled into the field with a sucking noise and globs of mud flying everywhere.  
  
"And he's done it!!," Lee announced. "Potter has the Snitch! Gryffindor wins the match!!"  
  
The stands erupted into a cacophony, but Ginny was intent on Harry. He'd fainted.   
  
Lockhart was at his side in seconds. "Oh no," Ginny groaned, pulling a hand down her soaking face. "Not him!"  
  
Colin had managed to slip out onto the field, too. Ginny wondered vaguely if he'd been sitting in the lowest level of the stands. "Colin," she hissed as he began dancing around with the camera, and sighed. "Poor Harry."  
  
The rest of the team had gathered around Harry, Lockhart, and Colin, and Ginny figured maybe that was for the best--she probably didn't want to see what was going on. Around her the other spectators continued to celebrate, apparently oblivious to the players once the game had ended. Ginny gave a half-sigh of irritation and tried to stand on tip-toe.   
  
Ron and Hermione were leading Harry back to the school now, but he looked...odd somehow...almost...lopsided. Then Ginny caught sight of his arm and nearly toppled over. It looked like a rubber glove, flexible and limp--almost as if the bones were missing! 


	14. A Secret Returns

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"  
by Jedi Amoira  
*****************  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
EEDOE--Your review made me blush--I guess I know how Ginny feels! Ginny is so much fun and tells her story so well, I would love to keep writing it forever, but we'll have to see how long the muse holds out...and what happens with Book 5.   
  
ShadowRomantic--I can see your point...it's kind of like being stuck between parallel universes to combine the dialogue too much. On the other hand, since Harry doesn't see everything, sometimes the movie makes a nice touchstone for other scenes, and I like to try to harmonize the two versions in my stories, if that makes sense.   
  
Hilary and Jess--I totally agree...the summary is boring, but I'm having trouble with a short description. I'd be glad to welcome suggestions.   
Ever-Faithful Bill :-)--Your prompt loyalty is amazing! Thanks! You're right about Quidditch (the rant had me giggling wildly)...why don't they sign release forms or take more precautions? Maybe culpability is different in the magic world since medicene is so much neater (replacing bones in a night!)? I'm glad you think this was up to par...I hope I can keep living up to expectations. I will be a little sad if JK contradicts everything I've dreamed up, but it is her universe...depending on how inspiration strikes, I might revise this story accordingly...*stares into space and nods absently*  
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Ginny looked at her watch for what must have been the tenth time. The large hand was pointing indignantly toward 'Waiting'. The small hand rested squarely on 'Late'. She pushed air out from between her lips in a sharp burst, trying to retain a hold on her temper that was beginning to feel tenuous at best. She looked around the Common Room again, but there was still no sign anyone besides herself was still awake. She toyed with the idea of leaving without him, but that seemed mean, especially as the visit had been his idea to begin with...Ginny sighed and shifted her weight from foot to foot.  
  
A tremor seemed to sigh through her like a voice calling her name ~Ginny~  
  
Ginny frowned and rubbed her hands along her arms as if trying to shake a sudden chill.   
  
~I know what you want to do-- "no one understands like you like I do"~  
  
Ginny had taken a step toward the Portrait Hole without even realizing it. "Mum's right," she said, her voice too loud, too alive in the empty Common Room. "I do have an overactive imagination."  
  
~Why sit here fretting over people who can't be bothered to remember you? There's so much else to see, so much else to learn, so much else to do?~  
  
She could almost see, from the back of her mind, a pair of large gray eyes staring out at her, imploring...Ginny blinked. She'd been standing here so long, she was falling asleep on her feet. She reached up to rub at her eyes, and suddenly staggered forward, nearly tumbling headfirst into the Portrait.  
  
The Fat Lady swung open with a disgruntled snort. "Thanks for the warning. So considerate."  
  
Ginny looked over her shoulder to apologize, but she was already walking along the corridor. "But--I don't want to leave yet," she said in confusion. "Colin..." Her feet continued their inexorable progress along the hallway.   
  
"Stop," Ginny commanded, aware of the strange surreality of her situation. She struggled to stop moving, to turn her steps back toward the dormitory. "Go back."  
  
Nothing happened.   
  
With a shock, Ginny knew something was horribly wrong.   
  
"I want to go back," she cried hopelessly, her voice high and thin to her own ears.   
  
~You want to keep going.~ The response was a deep yearning in every muscle of her body, and tears began to run down Ginny's face as she stumbled onward blindly under the unyielding stare of those buried gray eyes.  
  
She began to shake when she saw Myrtle's bathroom.   
  
Darkness speared through her head, radiating pain. Ginny clasped her head in hands, digging at her hair, pushing her palms into her eyes, tossing her head back and forth as if she could shake the invasion loose, drive it--drive him--out. She was panting with exertion, barely conscious of the clammy stone walls or Myrtle's muffled wailing from the stall on the end. "What...is...happening...to...me.."  
  
All around her, reality seemed to bend.  
  
She opened her mouth, but a light, icy male voice emerged, speaking a ghostly, echoing language full of hissing breaths. Slowly, moving as if through water, Ginny raised a hand to her throat. She could see her reflection in the mirror, but she wasn't alone...  
  
The man from her dream was looking back at her from over her shoulder.   
  
Ginny jumped and forced her head around to look behind her.  
  
There was no one there.  
  
She felt reality break.  
  
The circle of sinks slid apart as if the earth were opening up to swallow her in her madness. Ginny swallowed.   
  
Then, she heard another hiss deep within the bowels of the earth, but it was as if this hiss--a voice that definitely wasn't human--was one she understood. *Blood...I smell blood...So hungry...so long...Kill...Rip...Tear...*  
  
Something very large brushed past her in the shadows. It felt cool and rough, scraping across her skin and stone.   
  
Horror and bile rose violently up within her, cutting off her air. Ginny tried to scream, pushed every particle of her soul into forming a single word--No--but her very veins pulsed with a dark and primal hunger and a satisfaction she scarcely understood, and every cell of her body burned Yes. Pain ripped through her where the two words seemed to meet, and it was as though she were being torn in half from the inside out.   
  
She wanted to pass out, but she couldn't let herself do that--she had to follow the snake.   
  
Fighting her traitorous body every step of the way, Ginny inched after it. And, reached the door of the bathroom just in time to catch sight of Colin coming around the corner, carrying his ever-present camera, and a bunch of grapes he must have saved from dinner. Her breath caught in a tearing sob, and she reached out her hand as if to stop him. He did stop, with the unnatural stillness of someone who thinks he has heard something, and Ginny found herself willing him over and over again to turn and run. Instead, Colin did what came naturally. He lifted his camera and turned, ready to capture whatever new surprise awaited him--and then he was falling over backward, stiff and still as the dead, his skin so white he seemed to glow in the dark.   
  
Once again, Ginny didn't make a sound, but she was screaming inside, over and over again, a wail without beginning and without end that seemed to go on and on, tearing sanity and hope to shreds in its wake. She wanted to rush to Colin's side and help him, but all she could manage was to sit there with her arms wrapped around her chest and rock desperately back and forth.  
  
Ginny heard footsteps.  
  
She hoped they found her...she hoped they knew what to do...she knew she was mad...  
  
And suddenly, everything went black. 


	15. The Morning After

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"  
by Jedi Amoira  
*****************  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I hope JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers take my imitation in the manner in which it is meant--sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
EmeraldDream--I'm so glad you love my story, too. It's great that you've noticed the Tom's slightly telling remarks and Ginny's occasional instinctive reactions, because that's one of the things I've been trying to develop. Thanks for noticing the details...it's a huge effort, and I worry I don't include enough! I hope you keep reading!!  
  
Bill--I want one of those watches, too! I totally agree about a steady diet of darker angst and horror...that's just not the Harry Potter atmosphere. With any luck we can balance it out with one-liners and smatterings of slapstick. Percy and Penelope have me worried...I hope I can do the scene comic justice!  
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************  
  
"You look as if you haven't slept in days, deary," the mirror said crisply.   
  
Ginny made a face that probably didn't help her appearance. "Thanks," she said dryly, not bothering to add--I feel like I haven't. After all, her sleeping habits weren't any of the mirror's business. She grabbed her backpack, cast a final, longing look at her coffee cup, wishing she could take it with her to class, ran downstairs, through the Common Room and down the hall.   
  
"I was beginning to think you'd skived off," Tempest said, shaking her head, as Ginny dropped breathless into the seat beside her.   
  
"Just running late this morning," Ginny said needlessly, and caught sight of the empty chair beside her. "Where's Colin?"  
  
Tempest stared at her as if she were sprouting a couple of extra heads-- /Where did that come from? I think Ron's mentioned that 3-headed dog one too many times/--and blinked. "That's right," she said, "you missed breakfast."  
  
Ginny's stomach quavered threateningly. "Don't rub it in," she warned. "Anyway, what does that have to do with Colin?"  
  
"Just that you probably wouldn't have heard," Tempest said, looking oddly sympathetic.  
  
"Heard?" Ginny repeated the word warily, immediately on edge.   
  
Tempest nodded. Ginny's skin crawled with chill as she noticed belatedly the hint of red around the rims of Tempest's eyes.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore found him."  
  
Ginny felt a wild spurt of relief. ""So he got caught sneaking out--that's no excuse to miss--"  
  
"He got caught all right," Tempest said sadly. "By whoever--or whatever--got Mrs. Norris."  
  
"Colin? He's been..." A stray image seemed not so much to form as to surface--Colin, cold and stiff and white...still as the dead...  
  
"Petrified," Tempest whispered, as if afraid to say the word too loudly.   
  
"He's not..."  
  
"No," Tempest assured her. "But Dumbledore says this confirms the message on the wall."  
  
"THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS IS OPEN--" Ginny mouthed in horror.  
  
Tempest nodded grimly. "It's a good thing we didn't go with him."  
  
Faintly, as if from a great distance in time, Ginny heard herself screaming...  
  
Concentrating hard, almost grasping, she had a vague impression of a scraping sound, of something big pushing past...  
  
"Ginny," Tempest said in the tone of someone who's been trying to get an answer for a while.  
  
Ginny grunted slightly.   
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I...don't think...so.." Ginny said, and burst into tears.  
  
She never knew how she made it through that awful Charms lesson. It was the first time she didn't hear a word Professor Flitwick had to say. She spent the entire time fighting tears while her classmates politely pretended not to stare. The second class was over, she bolted for the Common Room without so much as a glance to acknowledge Tempest calling her name.   
  
  
  
--Tom, do you think it's possible...do you think you could...do something horrible and not even know you did it?--  
  
--What do you mean?--  
  
--Tom, Tom, I don't remember where I was...I don't remember what I did...I think I'm loosing my mind.--  
  
--Ginny, you're obviously upset, but I can't help you, unless you slow down and try to explain.--  
  
--Last night...I was supposed to meet Colin. We were going to sneak down to the infirmary and visit Harry--  
  
--Harry? Did you embarrass yourself in front of him again? He probably didn't even notice.--  
  
--Harry? Oh, Tom...how am I going to tell Harry? He's so kind and sweet and thoughtful, and he would never understand how I could...I don't understand how I could...What am I going to do, Tom? I have to put a stop to this!--  
  
--Put a stop to what? You've lost me again. I may understand you, but I'm not inside your head.--  
  
--Sorry. Sorry....I..don't remember going to see Harry...I don't remember seeing Colin--  
  
--You probably fell asleep and he went without you. Is that all?--  
  
--NO! No. I...if I concentrate really hard, I remember thinking Colin was late, so I must have tried to meet him...and...I remember a voice...gray eyes...I didn't want to kill anyone...I think...I think Colin was laying very still...so white...Tom, I think..I..attacked him.-- Ginny shivered and swiped absently at her streaming eyes with the back of her sleeve. She was shaking so hard she didn't really know how Tom could understand her handwriting.  
  
--Ginny, Colin is your friend. Why would you attack him?--  
  
--I..I...wouldn't..I think I didn't want to, but--  
  
--I think you've been studying a lot and skimping on sleep, and this is just the result of an overactive imagination. You need to calm down and stop working yourself up so much over Ron--  
  
--You think it's my imagination? It...seemed so...real. Maybe I should go and talk to Hagrid. If opened the Chamber last time, maybe he knows whether or not you can do it and not know about it.--  
  
--Ginny, be reasonable. For all you know, Hagrid is the one who's opened the Chamber again. It may not be safe to ask him about it.--  
  
Ginny squared her shoulders and stuck out her chin. Her hand was steady and firm. --You're right...but I don't have a choice, Tom...I need to know.--  
  
"Got you something," Tempest said, walking over to sit beside her on the couch. She dropped a strange looking copper coin in Ginny's lap.   
  
Ginny blinked at it.   
  
" It's a penny," Tempest explained. "One of the Slytherins has relatives in America--apparently the Muggles there think they're good luck, so he decided to take advantage of the situation and sell them as Talismans."  
  
Ginny poked the coin with a hesitant finger, and tried to manage a weak smile. "Thanks, Tempest. I don't deserve friends like you...you and..."  
  
Tempest put her arm firmly around Ginny. "Don't be silly. Just because your brothers take you for granted doesn't mean everyone has to. We'll get through this--you and me...and Colin. We're going to stick together. That's what this...penny...stands for--friendship. Now...weren't you going to try to improve my skills at chess?"  
  
Worry lightened, however little, Ginny groaned. "That's beyond my capabilities--improving your skills at chess would take a miracle." 


	16. Family Encounters

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"  
by Jedi Amoira  
*****************  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I hope JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers take my imitation in the manner in which it is meant--sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
EEDOE--I'm having a lot of fun, too! I keep the chapters short because I hate having to leave a story I'm reading in the middle of a chapter...I'm never sure I'll find where I left off. I think short sprints are also a little easier to keep writing, because I don't burn out as quickly. Of course, I also hate just getting really involved in the story again and having it end, so...I'm going to post two chapters at once this time. Maybe that will help. :-)  
  
Bill--I think that was the most flattering review I've ever received--I love the idea of being unpredictable! I'll remember that comment with pride for years to come...thanks so much! If it won't offend you, I'll give you a hug! ;-)  
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Tuesday after class, Ginny was torn between marching straight to Hagrid's hut, and stopping off in the infirmary to see Colin. She ended up at the infirmary.   
  
"Under the weather again, dear?," greeted Madam Pomfrey.   
Not so much again as still, Ginny thought, but she didn't feel like trying to explain...not that she knew how to begin, anyway. She shook her head, feeling shy, "Please," she said, barely audible, "I'd like to see Colin."  
  
"Friend of his, are you?," Madam Pomfrey said kindly enough, but studying her with a shrewdness that made Ginny want to squirm.   
  
Ginny nodded again.   
  
"Well," Madam Pomfrey said, eyeing her closely, "I suppose you can't do any harm. But he probably won't even know you're there."  
  
"That's okay," Ginny said, uncomfortable. She hoped he never did. "I just need to see him."  
  
"Alright, then," Madam Pomfrey said, and led her back to the curtained bed.   
  
If Colin wasn't dead, he certainly looked it...except that perhaps he was too still...too stiff...his body held in an unnatural position, as if he were still gripping his camera. Feeling eerie, Ginny inched closer to the bed.   
  
"Uh...hi," she said lamely.   
  
"I...uh...just wanted to say that I never meant to do this-if I did-and I never meant to hurt you, cause I would never hurt you on purpose, Colin, so I'm real sorry and--" She sounded, Ginny observed with a bitter flash of dark humor, just like Colin. She stopped, took a deep breath, said slowly, "I'm doing my best to make sure nothing like this ever happens again." She sighed. "And if this was my fault, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you if you just get better. Don't die, Colin." She paused, then added, hating herself, "And please don't tell anyone if it was me...I've waited my whole life to go to Hogwarts; I don't think I could stand it if I got expelled."  
  
Impulsively, she leaned over and hugged him, and immediately wished she hadn't...he was cold and hard and very bumpy. Ginny gave into impulse and ran away.   
  
Every day that week, she was going to confront Hagrid. And every day that week, something happened. Patricia needed helped with her Charms homework. Neville needed help finding Trevor. She got distracted by Ron beating Harry-very badly-at chess.  
  
Nothing horrible happened...  
  
Unless you counted the twins draping themselves with odd bits of fur, boils, strange teeth, Neville's onions and newts' tails, and whatever else they could find and laying in wait to grab her. She knew they were trying to make her feel better about Colin and the Chamber of Secrets, and she had to admit that in a heart-attack inducing sort-of it was funny...but she wished they wouldn't, because every time they did she had trouble not picturing herself as a horrible monster lurking in the shadows devouring her friends...She felt as though she were fighting constantly against tears. She hadn't even stolen a pair of socks all week.   
  
--Maybe I don't have to confront Hagrid after all-Ginny admitted to Tom. -Maybe it was just my overactive imagination and didn't have anything to do with me.-  
  
--That's my level-headed girl-Tom praised. -I'm sure Dumbledore has it all under control; he always does.-  
  
--That's what my brothers keep telling me-Ginny smiled wryly.  
  
--Good. Listen to your brothers, then. Quit worrying about things beyond your control and enjoy being a kid. You haven't played a good prank in ages.-  
  
--Tom! Are you encouraging me to be bad?-  
  
--But it's so good to be bad...just a little. Isn't it?-  
  
Ginny snickered. -Yeah.-  
  
--So have some fun once in a while...maybe your imagination won't run away with you so much. And you still haven't had a conversation with Hermione yet.-  
  
--I know...she and Harry and Ron have been really scarce lately. Guess there's no room in their secret club for me.-  
  
--Don't be ridiculous...there's room, you just have to take control and demand your due. You only get what you're willing to take, Ginny. Remember.-  
  
"Ginny," Percy gasped, sounding scandalized.   
  
Ginny bit a curse that Fred and George would have been proud to hear.  
  
"I let it slide the first time because this is your first year, but you really can't continue to sit up after lights out. You aren't exempt from the rules just because you're my sister, you know."  
  
/No/, Ginny thought acidly, /I'm forced to be that much more perfect so I don't make you look bad./ Her breath escaped half in exasperation, half wistfully. She should have stayed in the dormitory, but Patricia snored and it really got on her nerves. "I'm not doing it to be difficult," she said acidly.   
  
Percy pulled himself up, looking for all the world like an offended rooster, then paused. "Madam Pomfrey could give you something if you're having trouble sleeping."  
  
"No," Ginny said, more forcefully than she'd intended, and blushed.  
Percy eyed her as if tempted to drag her to the infirmary again, and seemed to think better of it. "Okay," he said, as if it were his decision, "we'll wait on that for now. But you'll have to see her if I catch you out of bed again...and you'll loose points for Gryffindor. Understood?"  
"Wh--" Ginny began, realized what would happen if Mum caught wind of the fact she'd voiced such a suggestion-let alone to her model son-and finished reluctantly, "Whatever you say, Percy."  
"Thatta girl," Percy said, ruffling her hair in what was meant to be an affectionate way and ended up just uncomfortable.   
  
Ginny's vague sense of relief lasted until just after Transfiguration the next day. She was walking-trudging, actually-back to the Common Room when the twins jumped out from either side of a particularly stilted statue. Fred was wearing an impressive purple-green boil and a fake tail, and George had fangs and pointed ears. "Beware," George boomed, as Fred almost hummed, "The Chamber of Secrets" in a low base grumble. A clump of students all around Ginny started and snickered. Ginny tried to smile, and almost made it. "Stop it. Stop it this instant!," Percy ordered importantly. Ginny groaned and folded in on herself, hoping against experience that she could somehow pull back into the floor like a turtle into its shell.   
  
"Honestly, jumping out at Ginny like that when she's been having nightmares," Percy continued. Ginny wished a water fountain was near by to put out the fire in her face. The other people in the hall began to whisper to one another like the constant background hum of bees. Ginny thought she was starting to get a headache. "Completely irresponsible...totally inconsiderate...behave yourselves or I'll write home to Mum..."  
  
"Sorry, Gin," Fred said, tuning Percy out better than she could, "We didn't realize we were scaring you."  
  
"Yeah, we figured you thought it was funny," George said, looking sheepish.   
  
They hugged her from either side. "Ginny sandwich," they chimed, just as they always did when they felt guilty for something they'd done. The comfort of the gesture was wonderful...Ginny just wished her family could manage to notice her without drawing the attention of the whole school... 


	17. Shall We Duel?

"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power" by Jedi Amoira  
******  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. All of Lockhart and Snape's dialogue is taken from the book, and is the property of JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. I hope JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers take my imitation in the manner in which it is meant--sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
**********************************  
A few days later, Professor McGonagall came into the Common Room. While not unheard of, her presence was unusual enough to make people sit up and take notice. "It hardly seems possible, but this is second week of December. Before we know it, the Christmas will upon us. For those of you interested in spending the holiday with us, I need to collect your names."  
  
Ginny felt very grown up as she joined the small group waiting to sign the list. Longing for the Burrow, for Bill and Charlie, for Mum and Dad hit her unbidden, and her hand shook slightly as she signed the list. She saw with a shock she was the only first year from Gryffindor planning to stay, and loneliness cut through her like a gust of icy wind. Shivering, Ginny glanced over at Ron, but he, Harry, and Hermione had their heads close together, whispering something.   
  
The chill stayed with her, a dark cloud over her head, darkening her mood until she walked into Potions and Bion greeted her with "We're going right?"  
  
Ginny blinked, glancing around behind her to make sure he was talking to her. "Going to what?"  
  
"Duel," Bion said, as if it should have been obvious.  
  
"Have you been inhaling the fumes off Snape's jars again?," Ginny asked anxiously.  
  
Bion did something most unbecoming the dignified wisdom of a Ravenclaw, and snickered. "Didn't you see the sign in the Entrance Hall?"  
  
Ginny waited, confident her blank stare was answer enough.   
  
"Tonight is the first meeting of Hogwarts new Dueling Club," Bion explained grandly.  
  
"Professor Flitwick is going to show us the basics?," Ginny asked excitedly.  
  
Bion frowned. "I don't think so," he said, the end of his sentence considerably quieter than the beginning as Snape narrowed beady eyes in their direction. "But whoever's teaching, lessons might come in handy."  
  
The offhand reference to the Chamber of Secrets and the attack on Colin hardened Ginny's muscles with a combination of angry disapproval and nervous guilt. "Are you okay, Ginny?" Bion asked.  
  
"What? Oh sure. It sounds interesting...the club, I mean."  
  
"So you'll meet me in the Entrance Hall? We can go together."  
  
"Aren't any of the other Ravenclaws interested?" Ginny gave the cauldron the requisite three stirs counterclockwise.   
  
"Well, yeah. But we'll probably need partners for the practice duels, and it doesn't seem right to have any partner but you."  
  
Warmed by a sudden break in her stormy mood, Ginny grinned. "Maybe you have a point, at that."  
  
"This is not a Speech Slurp," Snape interrupted disprovingly. "I will start taking points if all the talking in this room does not cease immediately. Is that clear?"  
  
Ginny waited until she was sure he wasn't looking, and stuck her tongue out at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bion had twisted his face into a ridiculous knot and was gesturing with his arms in gross mimicry of Snape's batlike movements. Only the thought that detention from Snape would prevent them from attending the Dueling Club meeting kept Ginny from laughing.   
  
  
"I should have gotten us detention," she said emphatically as the Dueling Instructor-Instructors-walked out onto the makeshift stage.  
  
Bion turned toward her, somewhat hampered by the press of students all around them, and gave her an inquiring look.   
  
"It would be better than having to listen to Lockhart," Ginny hissed, jerking her head in the direction of his swirling plum robes.  
  
Bion shrugged, wiggled his eyebrows, and repeated his mimed impression of Lockhart's companion.   
  
"Gather round, gather round," called Lockhart. "Can everyone see me?" Ginny rolled her eyes. Bion smirked. "Can everyone hear me?" Ginny groaned. Bion glanced over and snickered. "Now Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club to train you in case you ever need to defend yourselves, as I have done countless times-see my published works." He paused for applause. There was a smattering of confused clapping as students craned their heads, trying to gauge one another's reactions. "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape. He tells me he knows a bit about dueling himself, and has sportingly agreed to help with a bit of a demonstration before we begin."  
  
"Uh-oh," Ginny breathed, slightly awed.  
  
  
"This ought to be good," Bion agreed reverently.  
  
"Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry-you'll still have your Potions Master when I'm done with him."  
  
"Blast," Bion said. Ginny grinned.  
  
Snape was looking as if he wouldn't say the same for Lockhart, and Ginny found herself hoping he had a point.   
  
Lockhart and Snape faced one another; Lockhart with an elaborate bow, Snape with a jerk of his head more designed to demand they get with it than acknowledge his opponent. "As you see," Lockhart proclaimed, "Our wands are in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells."  
  
"One-two-three--"  
  
"Expelliarmus," Snape shouted, blasting Lockhart off his feet in a flash of scarlet light. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ginny thought that was odd-for some reason she'd have expected any spell from Snape's wand to Slytherin silver or green...though of course that was ridiculous....  
  
Lockhart hit the wall several feet from the stage with an impressive thump and slid down it like raindrops on a window pane; several students gasped. Ginny looked instinctively toward the sound of cheering, caught sight of distinctive silver-blonde hair and shivered. Lockhart lurched uncomfortably upright.  
  
"There you have it," he said, his voice noticeably shaky. "That was a Disarming Charm-as you see, I've lost my wand-Thank you, Miss Brown-an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but, if I may say so, it was painfully obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been--" Lockhart seemed to be faltering slightly under the feral gleam slowly radiating through Snape's face. "Only too easy. But...Enough demonstrating!" 


	18. Applied Skills

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power" by Jedi Amoira  
******  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. All of Lockhart and Snape's dialogue is taken from the book, and is the property of JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. I hope JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers take my imitation in the manner in which it is meant--sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
EmeraldDream--I love the interaction between Ginny and Bion, too...She deserves to have a little fun! I think the distinction about why Ginny was upset about the twins hijinks is another of the subtle clues JK is so good at writing; you don't know they're clues until you see the solution. I'm looking forward to the next installment of your story!  
  
EEDOE--I failed Patience 101, too! That's why I'm writing this story! ;-) It's a great form of flattery you can't wait for the next chapter, and it always puts a smile on my face, so don't stop complaining on my account! *grins* I find Bion and Ginny's...friendship...adorable, too (though we all know Harry is her "lobster"), and one of the best things about it is the chance to show Ginny as more than a delicate flower wilting with emotion every time she sees Harry or something begins to happen. Like you, I think Ginny is a firecracker--or will be once she grows into it.   
Bill--I'm not sure about Bion's feelings yet, either...it's tough, isn't it, being 11? I'm Harry/Ginny, but I definitely agree a few male friends for Ginny are a necessity...how could they not be, growing up with five brothers? Secret--I'd love to see Lockhart made a fool of myself--I hate the git, too. *winks*  
***************  
The two Professors moved through the crowd assigning partners, Snape often breaking up people who'd obviously agreed to work together for no reason at all Ginny could fathom. She and Bion ducked out of sight behind the two hulking boys she usually saw flanking Malfoy, and were left to their own devices, which was exactly what they wanted.   
  
Ginny pretended to curtsey instead of bow. Bion reproduced Lockhart's flourishing gestures with the interesting addition of several sharp jerks of his head, giving him a manic look.   
  
"Cast your charms to disarm your opponents-and only to disarm!"  
  
"Sniffrumplus!" Ginny shouted, hitting Bion with a roughened shaft of yellowy-green light.   
Bion sneezed violently in the middle of yelling, "Dispelliarmus!", and dropped his wand. Ginny snickered.   
  
"You don't look so together yourself," Bion retorted in between sniffles. His face, scrunched up in a vain attempt to fight the need to sneeze, was wreathed with a huge grin.   
Ginny, glancing down to see what he was talking about, yelped in alarm-her left arm was missing! "Bion!!"  
  
"What?" Bion sneezed, giving her his best innocent look, "Professor Lockhart told me to disarm you."  
  
"At least I didn't let you finish," Ginny said, doing her best to glower at him. "But I don't want even one of my arms to be missing!"  
  
Bion opened his mouth, and Snape's voice shouted, "Finite Incantatem!"  
  
Ginny's left arm reappeared. She moved it experimentally. "That's better," she said with a sigh of relief.   
  
"I'll say," Bion agreed fervently, no longer sniffling.   
  
The two large Slytherins she and Bion had been standing behind weren't blocking Ginny's view any more, because both sat sprawl-legged on the floor, looking considerably more dazed than usual, which was saying quite a bit.  
  
A haze of green smoke veiled the room. Ginny peered through it at a chaotic scene; Ron was supporting a sick-looking Seamus, apologizing profusely, and Ginny wondered what exactly his wand had done, and whether or not it was close to what he'd intended, Fred and George both appeared to have their robes tied around their limbs in a variety of knots, and a girl almost as large as Malfoy's bodyguards held Hermione's head against the side of her massive frame. Even as Ginny caught sight of them, Harry leapt forward and tried to pry Hermione free, and Ginny felt a surge of affectionate pride at his unthinking defense.   
  
"I think I better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," Lockhart said, then caught sight of Snape eyeing him speculatively and quickly added, "Let's have a volunteer pair-Longbottom and Finch-Fletchly, how about you?"  
  
"A bad idea, Professor," Snape inserted smoothly, gliding into the conversation in one bat-like motion. "Longbottom causes devestation with the simplest of spells...we'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchly up to the hospital wing in a match-box." Ginny growled under her breath at the look on Neville's friendly round face. Bion put a hand on her forearm. "How about Malfoy and Potter?," Snape suggested, twisted relish in his smile.   
Ginny squeaked in protest.  
  
"Excellent idea!," cheered Lockhart, waving Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall. "Now Harry, when Malfoy points his wand at you, do this." He traced a complex pattern in the air, ending by dropping his wand. Snape smirked. "Oops," Lockhart said, picking it up with exaggerated casualness. "My wand is a little overexcited--"  
  
Ginny snorted, then narrowed her eyes as she saw Snape whisper something to Malfoy.  
  
"That doesn't look good," Bion said, echoing her own thoughts.  
  
Harry must have agreed. "Uh...Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?" he asked Lockhart doubtfully.  
  
Lockhart cuffed him on the arm and gave the crowd a jovial grin. "Just do what I did!"  
"What," Ginny heard Harry mutter, "drop my wand?" Bion snickered. Ginny tried-and failed-to grin.   
  
"Three-two-one-go!" Lockhart shouted.  
  
"Serpensortia," Malfoy said immediately. A black snake, thick as a python, exploded from his wand. Ginny caught her breath. Bion grabbed the sleeve of her robes and yanked her back so sharply she nearly fell over. All around them students were screaming and pushing against one another in the effort to get out of the way. Hermione looked horrified, and what little Ginny could see of Ron on the other side of her was standing painfully still, as if afraid any sudden moves might provoke tragedy.  
  
"Don't move, Potter," Snape drawled in satisfaction. "I'll get rid of it."  
  
"Allow me!" The snake shot into the air with a thunderous crack. Ginny and Bion both jumped. Behind them someone else whistled. The snake was hissing like overheated fry oil, almost drowning the sound when it hit the stone floor. It undulated like lightning toward the crowd of students, and arched upright, fangs bared.   
  
Harry looked like a figure from a dream as he moved slowly through the lingering smoke. He was staring at the snake as if trying to control it with sheer concentration. Ginny vibrated with the sheer force of his presence. Harry did something that made Ginny's heart nearly stop-he began to hiss. His voice echoed hollowly through the Great Hall, thready and threatening.   
It was frightening, alien, inexplicable...It was Parseltongue, and Harry was speaking it.   
And, rising through Ginny with the immutability of the tide, was the realization that in spite of the incomprehensibility of the sounds, she knew without a doubt what Harry was saying...she understood.   
  
Bion caught Ginny as she reeled. His cobalt eyes were troubled. Before he could say anything, Snape gestured at the Snake, and ash crackled along its coils, breaking apart against the floorstones.   
  
Finch-Fletchly was outraged. "What do you think you're playing at?" He shouted at Harry, storming away.  
  
"What was that?," Bion said in bemusement as the rest of the room erupted in anxious mutters.   
  
Ginny watched blankly as Ron fought his way forward to unceremoniously grab the back of Harry's collar and steer him out of the hall with Hermione fast on their heels.   
  
Shaking was all she could do. 


	19. Hagrid's Advice

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power" by Jedi Amoira  
******  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I hope JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers take my imitation in the manner in which it is meant--sincere flattery of their skills.  
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
Emerald Dream-- I had a blast writing the light-hearted fun interspersed with the more significant threat, so it's nice to know you enjoyed reading it, too. Thanks for letting me know about the next chapter of your fic...I'll be sure to check it out!  
  
Bill--I totally agree--that's the power of Chamber of Secrets...how the future can rest entirely upon a private struggle one little girl has with her thoughts! Who could resist playing with the possibilities and implications of that for a while? I just hope I do them the smallest bit of justice...You're very astute about Tom's control over Ginny, too. I think the fact she can remember or utilize his skills while not under his control is a sign that his control of her is growing. More and more of her life belongs to him. But as that becomes true, Ginny becomes more aware of Tom's presence, despite his efforts to keep her in the dark...and as she becomes aware, she is instinctively beginning to fight...I find it fascinating that each situation depends somewhat upon the presence of the other!   
  
I agree that it is a bit early for any boy-and-girl relationship romance at Hogwarts. Ginny definitely has a crush on Harry, but she's got more than enough to deal with. I do think guys tend to be mostly clueless at that age...and even if Bion is attracted to her, he's probably just aware of thinking she's kind of fun and hanging out isn't too bad. Ultimately, I suspect a brother-sister relationship is in the works for them, and they will probably be best friends. As for Lee...he may have other intentions, but I don't think he's going to act on them yet! Who knows, by the time he does, Harry might not be so clueless...  
  
And I can never read that line about Lockhart's wand (or Harry's) without snickering and blushing either. *winks*  
****  
As soon as the teachers managed to get the crowd under control and disperse them slowly from the room in regimented groups, Ginny sputtered a quick goodbye to Bion, who was looking distinctly bewildered, and raced for Hagrid's, trying not to think about what might be lurking in the shadows.   
  
"Oh, 'ello," Hagrid said as the door opened. "What are yer doing out now-bit late innit?"  
  
"Yes," Ginny said, uncomfortable. "I really need to talk to you, Hagrid."  
  
"Summat important?," Hagrid asked. "Don' know what it could be, but mebbe yer'd better come in."  
  
Ginny stepped inside, her discomfort increasing.  
  
"Like some tea?" Hagrid asked.  
  
"Uh...okay," Ginny said. Mum always offered people tea when they were upset. Maybe it would help her get the words out. Even if it didn't, at least Hagrid wouldn't be looking at her if he made it.  
  
"Easiest if yer just say it," Hagrid advised into the long, heavy pause. "Don' give yerself time to think."  
  
Ginny squared her shoulders and sucked in a deep breath as he hung the kettle over the fire. "Hagrid, what do you know about...." She was still speaking, her mouth was still moving, she was still projecting the words with all her might, but it was as if her tongue was seizing up on her, refusing to cooperate, as if she had swallowed a potion that paralyzed her voice...nothing was coming out...Her throat burned with effort, and the muscles along her jaw ached. Hagrid was staring at her oddly.   
  
"Okay, there, Ginny?," he asked.   
  
"I...think so," she said, slightly breathless.  
  
Hagrid smiled kindly, and Ginny nearly lost her nerve. If he had opened the Chamber of Secrets the last time, he couldn't possibly have meant to hurt anyone, and he'd been punished...and if she brought it up, she'd only be opening old wounds for him...But if anyone understood, if anyone could help her figure out what was happening to her, if anyone knew how to stop the horror the Chamber held within, it had to be Hagrid...  
  
"Hagrid," Ginny said again, as he took the kettle off the fire and poured it into the pot, "can you..."  
  
This time even her ears seemed to hiss with the pressure of trying to force the words between her teeth. Ginny tried to suppress a sudden shudder.  
  
"That is," Ginny managed, determined to finish what she'd started, "I need help..."  
  
The pain in her throat roared along in her muscles, scorching the all-too-familiar black cloud through her brain. Somewhere beyond the hissing in her ears, Ginny could hear a cold, high-pitched voice she somehow knew she'd heard before...~You will not say anything about the Chamber of Secrets.~  
  
Ginny snatched up the teacup Hagrid had set in front of her and gulped the contents. "With History of Magic. I'm supposed to be researching...snakes and their roles in magic."  
  
"I ken tell yer a bit about snakes," Hagrid allowed, pouring her more tea, and offering her a plate of strange-looking cakes that she politely declined. "But snakes seem like a Care of Magical Creatures topic to me. "  
  
"Um...yeah.." Ginny said, hastily sipping tea to hide her expression. "Maybe I misunderstood. Sometimes it's hard to pay attention to what Binns is saying."  
  
"Mebbe yer should ask one of yer classmates?" Hagrid suggested.  
  
"Umm...they probably wouldn't be much help either...I'm not the only one with trouble paying attention."  
  
"Hermione's yer best bet, then," Hagrid said decidedly. "She's right brilliant, our Hermione." The warmth in his voice put any lingering confusion Ginny might have had about what Ron and his friends might see in Hagrid forever to rest.  
  
"Great idea, Hagrid," Ginny said, "I'll do that."  
  
"Right. Well, now that's settled, yer best head back," Hagrid said in a tone that brooked no argument.   
  
Ginny stood, smoothing her skirt around her legs. "Thanks, Hagrid."  
  
"Anytime. Back to the castle with yer now."  
  
Even though she hadn't managed to say much, the effort of talking to Hagrid left her feeling exhausted. Her head felt heavy and full, so that the effort to hold it upright was almost more than she could bear. Her legs felt stiff and alien as she tried to move them, as if she were walking through thick mud pulling at her boots, even though the ground was cold and hard, near freezing.   
  
A chicken scrabbled across the path in front of her, its wings flapping madly. Ginny stared, a buried part of her mind, wondering pointlessly if it was the same chicken from her first visit.   
  
Before the possibility even occurred to her, let alone before making a conscious decision to do so, Ginny lunged forward and caught the chicken by the neck. She didn't know who was more surprised-the chicken or herself. They stared at one another blankly. Hissing trembled through her mind as the muscles of her body responded, once again speaking, defying her with that voice. ~The chicken must die.~  
  
Trembling, Ginny forced herself to look at the chicken. She had killed it. She threw it away from her, screaming in a small, frightened gasp.   
  
With each step she managed toward the school, her fear subsided and her exhaustion ebbed. By the time she reached the darkened dormitory, she was humming under her breath almost cheerfully. Speculating sleepily on the fun she would have over the Christmas holidays, Ginny began to change into her pajamas.   
  
She stopped suddenly, staring at her robes. She couldn't imagine why, but they were covered in fluffy white bits that looked strangely like... "Feathers?"  
  
Ginny shoved the robes out of sight under the bed as if they might suddenly come to life and tell everyone her secret. "But how can I have a secret if I don't even know what it is?" Ginny whispered. "What have I done?" The shadows offered no response.  
  
Somewhere, deep in her soul, an answer shuddered through her-- ~You have performed a great service in my name.~  
  
Ginny fought down an inexplicable surge of fear. "Who are you?"   
  
~I am one who knows what power is and how to use it...I am one meant to rule.~ She simply knew, like she knew to breathe, or that the sky was blue, or that her parents loved her...the answer was so ingrained within her, it seemed part of who she was; Ginny was absolutely certain she knew nothing about power, and never wanted to-Ginny was content with the color of leaves in the autumn and stolen socks, with an occasional glance from Harry and a kind word from Ron. Ginny had no desire to rule...  
  
//She looked into the mirror in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and the face looked clearly out; a thatch of thick, wavy dark hair, each strand perfectly in order over a wide, straight forehead. Equally dark eyebrows made low, straight slashes almost like threats over wide gray eyes the color and softness of a tombstone. A long, straight nose cut a sharp path to full, almost sensual lips that curved slightly upward-there was nothing unusual about the expression, but somehow it was cruel. The face was pale, almost as pale as Ginny's own milky complexion, and the contrast made the face even harder, even more unyielding. It was a boy's face, bordering on becoming the face of the man, smooth and untried, full of confident disregard for the world. Something about that face made Ginny feel sick to her stomach. "You look familiar," she said to the mirror.  
  
"Of course I do," the boy said, almost mocking. "Your life is mine."  
  
"That doesn't make any sense," Ginny protested.  
  
"Time, sweet Ginny," the boy crooned. "You will see in time."  
  
The words seemed like a hiss, low and continuous, and the face moved away from her as the mirror began to shift...the floor opened up in a way that Ginny felt she had seen when she was awake, and, with a loud sound of scraping, a huge snake swayed upward. It spoke, too, its voice constant and demanding...Kill...rip...tear...  
  
"Secret," the boy whispered. "It's a secret..."// 


	20. In the Library

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power" by Jedi Amoira  
******  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I hope JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers take my imitation in the manner in which it is meant--sincere flattery of their skills. The Hufflepuffs conversation and Harry's responses are taken directly from the book, while the idea of Ginny overhearing them is from the extra scenes on the dvd. No copyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made.   
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
EEDOE--I'm glad you enjoyed the way I handled the Parseltongue and Ginny's conversation with Hagrid. I think they're both pretty significant...especially since, as you say, whether Ginny wanted to tell and couldn't or didn't want to tell is an important distinction that says a lot about her. I hope you enjoy this installment, too, and that you keep up the good work on your on story as well. :-)  
  
Bill--You've hit on what I find the creepiest part of this story myself--the idea that everything you know...everything you remember...everything you even think is suspect and not even stable...not to be relied on...that's truly terrifying, and has nothing to do with outside evil (well, maybe in this case it does..) or the threat of an ancient monster. I can only imagine what such fear can feel like, and I have the greatest compassion for people like Ginny, who have to experience it first hand...I hope I can treat it with empathy and respect in my writing. I'm touched and amazed to have my fic called compelling...yet another compliment I will remember whenever I begin to feel discouraged. I have to admit, I would love a wider audience, but a reader like you is worth a dozen who don't love what they read. I'm going to hug you again! *hugs*  
  
*****  
The ground was covered in white the next morning. At least, Ginny thought it was-it was hard to see anything from the windows, they were so clouded with a thick flurry of flakes. Ginny loved snowstorms; the pristine blanket of snow over the earth, the veil of white that fell over the sky, draping everything it touched, the crisp, clean scent of the air...it was as if the whole earth were pure and untouched. It was a shame to waste such an enchanting day in History of Magic; Ginny hated to spend it studying at all-it was a day to dream-but short of asking Hermione, there was only one way Ginny was going to find out about her unexpected ability to understand Parseltongue-the library.  
  
She was curled up in a corner, pouring over a volume two-thirds as tall as she was entitled Powers You Never Knew You Had, and Don't Know What to Do With when a whisper, hurried and insistent, snagged her attention. "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while." Ginny frowned, an unpleasant feeling pacing her bones. /He can't possibly be suggesting-/  
  
"Of course," the boy continued in the same tone of urgent conviction, "Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"  
  
/Eaten?/ Ginny wondered, momentarily distracted. "You definitely think it is Potter then, Ernie?" Ginny fell back to earth with a jarring thump. The girl's anxious whisper seemed to linger in the air like fumes from a skunk.   
  
"Hannah," the first voice was final as the grave, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard."  
  
The pit of Ginny's stomach seemed to drop. She could feel it lodge somewhere between her toes as she swallowed violently against the sudden lump of bile in her throat.   
  
"Have you ever heard of a decent one that could talk to snakes?," the boy added sanctimoniously.   
  
Like the other girl, Ginny had to admit she couldn't. There was no denying Harry could ...and no denying she understood him...But, she thought in desperate confusion, Harry isn't Dark. He's so kind...and sweet...and good. He's a hero... A broken fragment of her mind-sharp and separate-was laughing and she didn't know why; she could hear the sound-high and cold-like a shadow falling in her mind. Ginny stared at her book so intently she couldn't really see the page at all, as if all she had to do was look through the page to see what everything really meant and read the answer. The letters twisted and wriggled, slithering into new shapes, as if refusing to be read.   
  
"Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch," the boy pointed out, unyielding. "Next thing we know, Filch's cat is attacked. That first year, Creevy, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know-Creevy's been attacked."  
  
It made sense. It makes sense, but Harry would never do anything like that. It made sense, but...it didn't explain the paint on Ginny's robes, or the feathers. It didn't explain the face she dreamed about seeing in Moaning Myrtle's mirror. And it didn't explain the slow trickling loss of Ginny's memories.../Not Harry...but if we both speak Parseltongue...what else do we have in common?/  
  
"He always seems so nice, though," the girl protested. "And he made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad can he?"  
  
Fitting neatly into place, Ginny's own thought finished in a burst of intuitive lighting-/What if you can do something horrible and not even know you did it? What if Harry understands that? What if he's having the same problem I am?/   
  
Far later than he should have, the boy had lowered his voice to an incomprehensible murmur, but Ginny hardly noticed as she shoved the book off her lap and started to stand up. She had to find Harry-  
  
She was lost in the depths of his stricken eyes. Without thinking, she reached out to touch him, to wipe away the smallest measure of the pain she saw in his face...and realized belatedly he was completely focused on the little group of whispering students clumped around the table between them and hadn't even seen her. Cheeks burning with the foolishness of her gesture, Ginny hastily dropped her arm.  
  
Every one of the Hufflepuffs was rigid with shock. "Hello," Harry said, sounding surprisingly calm and friendly, with only the slightest edge of smoldering anger in his voice, "I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchly"  
  
Ginny smiled slightly, darkly satisfied with Harry's poise...and the effect it had on his accusers. The group moved in near-unison to stare at a short, stocky boy, who had obviously been the main speaker. "What do you want with him?" The boy wasn't so brave when faced with the subject of his speech-his voice was wavering. Ginny nearly snorted in derision. The laughing shard in her thoughts grew louder, making her head ache.   
  
"I wanted to tell him what really happened with the snake at the Dueling Club," Harry said matter-of-factly. He wasn't going to cower in shame or try to pretend it hadn't happened. Not Harry...he faced the worst head-on and never let it win. Ginny nearly cheered.   
  
The boy squared his shoulders. "We were all there," he said defiantly, and while Ginny would have liked to slug him, she had to admit what he was doing showed pluck. "We saw what happened."  
  
"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?" Which, of course, had been exactly what he had insisted it do. If Harry could consciously use his gift, maybe he could teach Ginny to control hers, too...Without really meaning to, Ginny pictured herself alone in a darkened classroom, leaning over a piece of parchment, her face close to Harry's, the look in his green eyes as his attention slowly shifted from what they were doing to her...the sound of her own dreamy sigh slapped in her the face like a wet towel, and she made a face.  
  
"All I saw," the other boy retorted, looking like he'd gotten hit with a Tremor Jinx, "was you talking Parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin."  
  
"I didn't chase it at him!" Harry said, shaking slightly. Ginny didn't know how she knew-you couldn't tell just to look at him-but somehow, she just knew; Harry was on the verge of impossible anger and hopeless tears. "It didn't even touch him!"  
  
"It was a very near miss," the boy insisted tightly, "And in case you're getting ideas, I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so---"  
  
"I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" The truth of Harry's soul burned bright through his green eyes, and was written in the sharp line of his usually expressive mouth. "Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?" There was a note of pleading confusion in his voice the group at the table seemed to miss, but it tore at Ginny's heart.   
  
"I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with."  
  
Ginny thought of the scene Ron and the twins had painted for her parents when Harry wasn't in the room to listen or be embarrassed...Bars on the window, a cat flap in the door. Cold soup. His books locked away in a cupboard so he couldn't even read. Sorrow, cold and bitter, somehow more scorching than anger, burned through her.   
  
"It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them," Harry said simply, his voice very calm and quiet. "I'd like to see you try it."  
  
Tears pricked painfully at the back of Ginny's eyes, and the inside of her nose began to burn. Even the laughter in her mind seemed significantly quiet, as if contemplating the enormity of what Harry had been through.   
  
Harry thundered through the book stacks. More than anything, Ginny wanted to talk to him. To comfort him and encourage him and tell him everything was going to be all right. And...eventually...after he no longer looked like the world had come to an end...to confide her fears to him, to ask if he understood... She was ready to vault over the table and rush to his side, but she knew he wouldn't thank her for embarrassing him further, or even for surprising him before he'd managed to regain a little balance, so, forcing a calm she didn't feel, she walked slowly and deliberately to the table and looked the short, stocky boy directly in the eye.   
  
"That was Harry Potter," she said, her voice trembling. "The Boy Who Lived." The people at the table, still stunned by Harry's dramatic exit exchanged looks. Ginny knew it was melodramatic. She knew she wasn't helping herself-defending him so openly was sure to make her crush on him even more of a school joke than it already was. She didn't care. "You said your blood's as pure as anyone's-so you've heard the stories," she said flatly. "We all have. You have some tiny inkling of what his life must be like... what he's suffered."  
  
The boy opened his mouth to say something. The blonde girl sitting next to him was nodding slightly. A couple of the others were wearing looks of stunned amusement. Ginny ignored them all. "But you belittled that suffering...and managed to add to it." She shook her head, disgusted. "How dare you do such a thing? Everyone deserves a little common courtesy, a little respect for their pain; Even-not that you have the slightest proof-the Heir of Slytherin."  
  
Calmly, quietly, deliberately, Ginny walked away. 


	21. Storm in the Mirror

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power" by Jedi Amoira  
******  
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I hope JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers take my imitation in the manner in which it is meant--sincere flattery of their skills. The Hufflepuffs conversation and Harry's responses are taken directly from the book, while the idea of Ginny overhearing them is from the extra scenes on the dvd. No copyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made.   
  
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
SunshineStargirl--Thanks :-) I hope you keep reading!  
  
EEDOE--I like the idea of Ginny as mature for her age...the contrast between her usual behavior and her involvement with the diary underlines the fact that she is still, ultimately, a lost little girl. And...I have to admit, I like her as a kitten with claws--everyone needs a dark side. ;-) I'm really flattered by your high opinion of my story (and will think of it proudly and often), but I wouldn't sell yours short either--I think it shows a creativity and fearlessness I admire and probably lack. :-)  
  
Bill--I do think that's the moment when Riddle really starts to contemplate how many parallels there are between himself and Harry, and it is definitely the calm before the storm...I hope you like the way the storm breaks. ;-) I love the humor that infuses the Harry Potter stories, so it's great you see a similar humor in this story...I thought the Eton/eaten remark was too funny to pass up. Thanks for the email!  
  
******  
  
She was looking for Harry...but, somehow, Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was the first place she ended up. Frowning, bewildered and frustrated, she turned to go and walked inside. Myrtle was wailing in the stall on the end...the sobs sounded muffled, and hollow, as if she were in the toilet. Ginny shuddered at the mental image.   
  
Feeling oddly detached from herself, Ginny sidled up to the mirror, and peered into its depths. Gray eyes stared back over her shoulder, level and calm. Seeing them filled her with an odd spurt of relief, but she didn't have the slightest idea why. Her lips moved. "Hello," she said, testing, her voice unfamiliar against the backdrop of Myrtle's mourning.   
  
"Hello," the boy in the mirror said, and somehow, she heard his voice in her head. "It's nice to see you again."  
  
"Yes," Ginny said, dazed. "But I don't know why I'm here...I'm looking for Harry."  
  
"Why?" The boy sounded amused. "He won't be as happy to see you as I am."  
  
Ginny sighed. That was undoubtedly true. "I want to ask him about Parseltongue."  
  
"Fascinating language," the face in the mirror said, and Ginny felt as if she could see the words written stark and black across her thoughts...she felt heavy, sleepy, almost drugged...She struggled to stay awake, to keep her eyes open. "Why don't you try speaking it?"  
  
"Here?" Ginny asked blankly, swaying on her feet. "But there aren't any snakes."  
  
"Why not just talk to the snake etched on that tap?" The face in mirror suggested with a look that brought the word beguiling to mind for some reason...  
  
"Well..." Ginny hesitated.   
  
"You know you want to," the boy prompted. "Go on...see what it's like."  
  
She didn't want to...and yet...the urge to see what it was like was suddenly overwhelming. Ginny crouched down and stared at the tap.   
  
Ginny started to ask what should say, but she was already speaking... "Come to me, my servant. Come destroy and taste the blood of the unworthy..." Buried somewhere deep in the crushing exhaustion and dazed sense of the surreal, Ginny wondered What does that mean? But she could hear the answer, hissing and humming through the pipes all around her. *Blood, I smell blood...So Hungry...Kill...Rip...Tear...* and something dark and primal and intoxicating surged through her blood in answer.   
  
"Open." Ginny said, and the sinks shook violently, pulling apart so that the floor between them opened into a dark, depthless brink. A great mass surged upward and forward, scraping rough scales against her skin in a way that sparked excitement as it pushed past her. Ginny glanced back at the mirror, and the boy smiled at her.   
  
"You begin to have the slightest inkling," he said, sounding so much like she had in the library she stared in open-mouthed awe. "Of power."  
  
"I'm evil, aren't I?," Ginny whispered.  
  
The boy laughed. It was the high, cold, fear-inspiring sound from her dreams. Ginny flinched slightly, which only made the boy grin indulgently. "Ginny, Ginny," he said, shaking his head. "There is no good or evil. Only Power...and those too weak to use it."  
  
"No," Ginny said slowly. "No...that can't be true..."  
  
"Oh?" The dark-haired boy looked at her like Mum did when she was trying to explain something Ginny didn't want to hear. "Why is that?"  
  
"Because...we could all do whatever...whatever...felt good...whatever we want," Ginny said, putting a hand to her head. The pain was making it hard to see, things were going in and out of focus.   
  
"We can," the boy said. "You just did."  
  
She frowned. What had she just done? Her skin stung. She reached down to touch it and felt raw, rough skin. A scrape...scales...a serpent...Colin cold and white, falling backward, a scream...  
  
"Colin," Ginny whispered. She looked the boy in the mirror directly in the face and said a little loudly, "No! I don't want to hurt anyone."  
  
The boy laughed again. "You taste my power, Ginny Weasley," he said gently. "You do what I want."  
  
"I'm not going to do anything just because you tell me," Ginny insisted, rubbing at her temples.  
  
"I don't have to tell you," the boy said simply. "All I have to do is want it."  
  
"No!" Ginny screamed, so loudly the doors on all the stalls swung a bit. Myrtle stopped crying. The pain in Ginny's head flared, and began to subside. Slowly, afraid of what she would see, Ginny looked in the mirror.   
  
Her face looked back at her, pale and drawn, her eyes glowing owlishly amber over dark half moons on her cheeks. She was tired, but her limbs felt lighter, less constrained, as if she had been moving through mud that had suddenly dried up. "Did that really happen, or did I just make it up?" Ginny asked her reflection. It stared mutely back at her, the brilliance of her ruddy hair making it seem ominously alight.  
  
"If I made it up, I'm mad," Ginny said flatly. Her reflection didn't waver.   
  
"If I didn't..." Ginny licked lips gone suddenly dry. "What if I've killed someone?" How could she ever hope to set things right if she had? What would Harry say? Or Mum and Dad? Or Ron...   
  
"Ooh...talking to yourself," Myrtle crooned from the stall. "Aren't you pathetic?"  
  
"Least I'm not crying inside a toilet," Ginny snarled, and immediately regretted it when fat tears began to roll down Myrte's cheeks.   
  
"Oh, Myrtle, don't cry. I didn't mean it."  
  
"Sure, be rude to Myrtle, she doesn't mind, it's not like she has any feelings, being dead!" Myrtle screeched, diving back into her toilet with a splash.   
  
Ginny sighed, but she didn't have time to waste waiting on Myrtle to reappear so she could apologize. She had to go find out what that snake had done. What she had done. 


	22. Aftermath

Disclaimer--None of this is mine. It's all JK Rowling, WB, and Scholastic property. I hope JK, Steve, and my fellow fanfic writers see my imitation in the way it is intended, as the sincerest form of flattery.  
  
Author's Note--Sorry I've been in absentia for so long, guys...I appreciate your patience. I've been sick and distracted by the RL, but I haven't forgotten any of you...or Ginny. I hope I can make it worth the wait. Thanks so much for all your support. Special thanks and apologies to Bill and EEDOE!. *HUGS*  
  
*********  
  
Ginny was so focused on discovering what had happened, it was as if the rest of the world had completely vanished. She saw nothing. Until she walked into something very large and solid, which knocked her backward to the floor. Stunned, struggling to catch her breath, Ginny looked up. And up. And up. It was Hagrid, faceless and fuzzy in a way somewhere between comic and unsettling.   
  
  
  
"Yer class was canceled, too, then?" Hagrid asked, looking vaguely suspicious.   
  
Ginny blinked. "What?" Memory was rising slowly like the ink in Tom's diary...Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets last time...what's he doing here if it really is open again? At the same time, another part of her mind was already arguing, But Hagrid wasn't in the bathroom with the snake-you were. A shudder of doubt immediately ran through her. She had been looking for Harry... Weren't you?  
  
  
  
"Say...yeh were out by my hut las' night," Ginny was faintly aware of Hagrid saying. "Don' suppose yeh saw what happened."  
  
  
  
"What happened?" Ginny repeated weakly, swallowed in a sudden surge of dread.  
  
  
  
Hagrid held up a chicken. It was dead.   
  
  
  
Ginny stifled the urge to scream.   
  
  
  
"Either foxes or a Blood-suckin' Bugbear. I need the Headmaster's permission to--" Hagrid's voice died off as he stared, temporarily distracted, at something down the corridor.  
  
  
  
Ginny turned and looked over her shoulder. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra were walking together, carrying something. As they passed without saying anything, Ginny caught a glimpse of what she was afraid might be someone's hand. It was impossibly still. Behind them...was the strangest sight she had ever seen-Nearly Headless Nick, gone black and cloudy as smoke, head hanging at grotesque angle, face frozen in a strange grimace of fear and disbelief that chilled the very soul, and, behind him, the boy from the library, looking frenzied, fanning Nick along.   
  
  
  
"You see," the boy hissed. "You see what your precious Potter has done!"  
  
  
  
Ginny opened her mouth, hardly sure what would come out, but the boy was already adding, "Got caught, though, this time. Even Potter can't talk his way out of this one. He's on his way to Dumbledore right now, sure to be expelled. And then we'll all be safe from the Heir of Slytherin." He didn't wait for a reply, but continued inexorably in the direction of the infirmary.  
  
  
  
"He didn't do it!" Ginny cried wildly. "Not Harry! He didn't do it, Hagrid! I--" She nearly choked on her inability to say more. A trickle of relief ran through her at the thought that if she couldn't say anything, no one would ever know the shameful possibility she might be a murderer, staining her cheeks red with shame. "I--" she said again, causing Hagrid to pat her on the back so forcefully she stumbled several feet away from him. "Harry's innocent, Hagrid," she said again, pleading, as she fought to stay on her feet.  
  
  
  
"Course he is," Hagrid said fiercely. "I know he couldn' have done it a'that. 'E was jes' talking to me not more 'an coupla minutes ago, an' I'll tell Dumbledore so, Ginny, don' you worry."  
  
  
  
Ginny would have asked him more, but he was already around the corner, moving with amazing speed for someone so massive. Ginny sucked in a great sobbing breath, feeling as if her entire world were crumbling under feet. Her legs threatened to buckle under her the entire way back to the Common Room, and she was never sure why they hadn't. If it hadn't been for classes, she would have been mobbed by people demanding what she knew. Ginny would never have survived. . If only she knew what was happening...not only to her, but to everyone around her...but she didn't, and it was tearing her apart. She lurched up to the dorm, collapsed on her bed and dissolved into tears it took several hours to get under control.   
  
  
  
When she could finally manage to hold a quill, she seized the diary.   
  
  
  
--There's been another attack, Tom. I...I thought I did it, but...everyone else thinks it was Harry, and he can speak Parseltongue...but he defeated You-Know-Who, so he would never do anything evil...and then there's Hagrid, you said he opened it last time and do you think I caught it from him somehow or something?-  
  
  
  
--Another attack? Was anyone killed?-  
  
--I...I'm not really sure...I mean, I saw what I thought was someone's hand and they weren't moving, but hopefully they were just Petrified and can be cured, and Tom what will I do...how can I ever tell anyone I might be a murderer? For that matter, how could I not be sure whether I was a murderer or not, shouldn't you know?-  
  
  
  
--Of course if you killed someone you would know. You're just letting your imagination run away with you because you feel so bad for the victims of the attack, Ginny. You haven't done anything.-  
  
  
  
--How do you know? How can you be sure? I'm not even sure. I mean...--  
  
  
  
--I know because I know you. You're a sweet, gentle, thoughtful girl and you'd never do anything worse than pull a practical joke on anyone because you hate to hurt people's feelings. You couldn't kill a-  
  
  
  
--Chicken?-Ginny interrupted.  
  
  
  
--What? Well...sure.-  
  
  
  
--You always know the right thing to say, Tom...but even if you're right, and it isn't me, shouldn't I tell someone what's been happening?-  
  
  
  
--Ginny, I know it's perfectly normally for a creative little girl to get carried away with, but even suggesting you might have something to do with such an awful attack...do you want to end up at Saint Mungo's for the rest of your life? You'd never see Harry then...and from what you're saying, it sounds like he might need your help.-  
  
  
  
--Harry?-  
  
  
  
--Well, someone has to prove his innocence. And when that happens, he's sure to be grateful...--  
  
  
  
--But how could I possibly help him? I can't even keep myself together.-  
  
  
  
--Maybe helping him would give you something to think about and you wouldn't have as many...problems-  
  
  
  
--Do you think so?-  
  
  
  
--Why not?-  
  
  
  
--Maybe you have a point...talk to you later, Tom-  
  
  
  
--Looking forward to it, my dear.-  
  
  
  
The other girls came clattering in from dinner a bit later, the lingering smells of food making Ginny's stomach twist. Tempest came over to see if she was there, but Ginny didn't feel like trying to talk. She closed her eyes and lay very still, pretending to be asleep. Tempest watched her several seconds, then quietly closed the curtains and walked away. 


	23. A Much Needed Break

Disclaimer--None of this is mine. It's all JK Rowling, WB, and Scholastic property. I hope JK, Steve, and my fellow fanfic writers see my imitation in the way it is intended, as the sincerest form of flattery.  
  
Author's Notes--This is a bit of a slow installment, but Ginny's earned a break, and the next one should be a lot more exciting, so bear with me, please. ;-)  
  
Bill--I feel awful for disappearing on you...especially since you're my biggest fan. I was going to tell you I thought I could work Luna into Ginny's second year...but what do you know, she showed up! *grins and shrugs* I'm thrilled beyond belief you think my Ginny is like JK Rowling's. After all, she's the master artist, and I'm a very poor imitator...I LOVED Ginny in OTP, she was amazing. I missed you! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--You are amazing and supportive! I love your enthusiasm! *hugs*  
  
Hilary and Jess--I'm excited...It's a big accomplishment for me to make a favorite writer's list! :-D I loved your review...Breathtaking and vivid--that was really nice! I'm glad you remembered the summary suggestion...it's always hard to condense your own stories to a sentence or two.   
  
Emerald Dream--Thanks so much for such high praise, it really makes me smile...I'm so glad you're enjoying my humble little story. :-)  
  
Pauline--Nice to hear from you again! I'm glad you're still interested. I thought Ginny did a good job with Lee, too--I was proud of her. Thanks for the story development suggestion. I'll try to apply it.   
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--Hope this was a good start...more shouldn't be too long in coming...*crosses fingers*  
  
**************************************  
  
Things quieted down a bit when term ended, and Ginny, at least, wasn't sorry. Well, actually, things were as noisy as ever between the loud games of Exploding Snap that seemed to stretch on for hours, the chess games turned spectator sport with everyone shouting advice to either person playing, and countless mock duels in which you attacked whomever happened to be nearby at the time. A couple of times Ginny raised her wand to attack Harry, but she couldn't quite bring herself to attract his attention that way, and Harry seemed equally unwilling to approach her-probably because he figured a sentence from him was enough to completely do away with her wits, an idea with enough truth in it to make Ginny scowl at herself when no one was looking. But, in the midst of all the excitement, the Chamber of Secrets was never mentioned...or wouldn't have been if Percy hadn't marched around like a soldier on duty, giving repeated speeches about his duty to help the teachers during this troubled time. Each time he said this, the twins would sneak up behind him on either side and proceed to imitate him precisely, right down to the slight tilt of his head and the way he held his shoulders. More often than not, they'd also take advantage of his distraction in yelling at the others for laughing to nick his Prefect's badge. Ginny wished Lee were around at times like that, filled with the urge to confess particularly mischievous impulses she knew he would appreciate. She didn't just miss Lee. She missed Tempest...and Colin. Even more, she missed Bion. And...as much fun as she was having...she missed Mum and Dad and Bill and Charlie...  
  
Especially when she woke to the cool white silence of Christmas morning...for an instant, it was as if she were the only person left alive on earth. Then she caught sight of the presents heaped at the foot of the bed.   
  
Pouncing, Ginny tore the paper off the first one-Flying with the Cannons from Charlie. Grinning, she flipped through the pages, watching the orange-clad wizards soar around and collide. She didn't remember the rest of the packages until she was half way through the first chapter. Laughing sheepishly, she shook the closest and tried to guess what might be inside. It turned out to be a coiled rubber snake with impossibly long fangs and fur-in the split second before she realized as much, Ginny jumped back off the bed with a little shriek-"Fred and George," she said, making the names a curse, as she tried to get her heartbeat under control. The paper still held a sheath of sugar quills. Ginny gave the blanket a sharp jerk, tossing the snake into the corner and sat back down, soothing herself with a sugar quill. Bill had sent a book about ancient Egyptian Astronomers Ginny was sure she'd find fascinating. A small flat package turned out to be a photo of Tempest-obviously taken by Colin, and Ginny promised a visit to the infirmary later-sitting in the Common Room, looking at her with an impish expression. The photo was framed in the curves of a graceful and swirling rendition of something that looked like wind, complete with the face of the Green Man, probably drawn and painted by Tempest herself. Ginny set the photo on her bedside table, making sure it was where Tempest could see it later, wondering what Tempest thought of the little compact mirror she'd gotten her.   
  
  
  
An intriguingly lumpy package turned out to be a complete set of lock picks with a note from Lee -Teach you how to use these after the holiday, Ginger. Stay in trouble. Don't get caught. Lee-Ginny laughed and shook her head, she knew where Lee had gotten that idea...maybe she'd give Bion a set of his own next year. But, for this year, she was sure Every Flavor Beans would do just fine.  
  
  
  
For his part, Bion had given her a photo of Gilderoy Lockhart made into a dartboard. Ginny set it aside to hang in the Common Room later...the twins would admire idea, Harry and Ron would love a shot at Lockhart, and Percy was sure to be driven nuts by such disrespect to a teacher. "Thanks partner," Ginny said with a conspiratorial grin before turning her attention to the next present. Percy had given her Etiquette for the Proper Young Witch. Curious, Ginny glanced at the publication date. It had been written in the 19th century. She didn't know whether to be interested in the history, or exasperated by the gesture, so she settled for rolling her eyes and tossing the book off to the side.   
  
  
  
A large, squashy package held Mum's yearly sweater. "Lavender," Ginny remarked to the empty room; she'd wear it to dinner. There was also a large tin of gingersnaps, the cookie for which Ginny's fondness had helped-though not as much as her red hair and her temper-earn her nickname. Ginny bit into one with relish and sighed with sudden longing for her father as she found the necklace he'd enclosed-a slender silver chain hung with a cute turquoise and silver turtle. She fastened it about her neck, and hastily reached for another package to distract herself.   
  
  
  
It was from Ron. It turned out to be a gorgeous journal with a butter soft hand-tooled leather cover, and thin, parchment pages, such a delicate soft gold they seemed to glow against the beautiful ink illumination and gilded edges. Ron had written a note on the first page. -I know you already have a journal, Gin, but I figured you could use this for when it runs out...after all, you have to be able to record it when your brother's a prat.-Ginny could almost hear the long pause before the hurried-looking conclusion. -I love you. Ron- The journal had to have cost most of his yearly allowance. Ginny stared at it, completely at a loss for what to think, let alone how she felt. "I'll be damned," she said softly.   
  
  
  
Fred shrieked in mock-disbelief from the doorway.   
  
  
  
"Ginny," George said, in an excellent rendition of being taken aback.  
  
"Don't let Prefect Percy hear you talk like that," Fred added, shaking his head with impossible gravity.   
  
"Spare me," Ginny retorted, rolling her eyes.   
  
"Why, Ginny, you act as if our presence is a burden," George said in a tone of bewilderment.   
  
"Your inexplicable attitude hurts, Ginny," Fred added gravely. "Cuts us to the quick."  
  
"But we love you in spite of your cruelty," George added munificently.   
  
"Family is important," Fred chanted gravely. "Which is why we're all going to the Great Hall for Christmas dinner--"  
  
"As a family," finished George.  
  
"Put on your sweater and come along," commanded Fred.   
  
Ginny laughed, pulling the sweater over her head as she followed them in search of their remaining brothers. "How did you two jokers get into the girls' dormitory? I thought--"  
  
"If we told you," began Fred.  
  
"We'd have to kill you," said George.  
  
"And Mum would never let us hear the end of it," Fred sighed, shaking his head.   
  
Ginny would have pursued the subject, but they'd just found Percy. She could tell by the sudden flare of evil inspiration in their eyes.   
  
Percy's tap dance into the Great Hall earned laughing applause from Professor Dumbledore, who restored him with a wave of his wand. "Nice work," he observed mildly. "You'd be top students if you applied equal skill to your classwork, no doubt. However, I must ask you to refrain from practicing on fellow students."  
  
"Aww..."   
  
"Professor..."  
  
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, already smiling past the twins to the rest of the group. "Miss Weasley. Happy Christmas."  
  
"Happy Christmas," the whole group, even Percy who was still recovering from an overpowering blush, chimed.   
  
"May I recommend the goose? It's quite excellent."  
  
All the food, as it transpired, was excellent. Perhaps the flavor was enhanced by the Christmas carols Dumbledore interspersed throughout the meal, their voices bobbing and weaving comically. It seemed to go on and on and on with no sign of stopping. Ginny was so full she could barely move as the boys continued to help themselves to pudding. She sipped at her eggnog, and mused that she missed home, but Christmas at Hogwarts wasn't bad as an alternative. 


	24. Shared Thoughts

Disclaimer--None of this is mine. It's all JK Rowling, WB, and Scholastic property. I hope JK, Steve, and my fellow fanfic writers see my imitation in the way it is intended, as the sincerest form of flattery.  
  
Author's Notes--  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries-Surprise! :-) I try to update fairly regularly...the momentum helps keep me writing. There will be a couple of what I consider romantic interludes for Harry and Ginny before the end of the story, but no outright romance...I like staying true to the cannon timeline, and I think a little anticipation is a great thing. I hope that doesn't keep you from reading.   
  
GangsterSteph--I love FictionAlley, but I don't think they love me...my grammar is too imprecise. I'm thrilled you were interested enough to seek Ginny out here. ;-) Thanks for letting me know my story's given you a lot of laughs...it makes me feel less off-balance with all the quiet snickering I do at the keyboard. I love Ginny's sense of fun and mischief...if she wasn't a prankster I'd have a hard time seeing her as a Weasley. ;-) You're right about Tom being easy on Ginny...he's actually got a bit of a soft spot for her because she's the avenue of his rebirth into the world. I think Tom reveres anything that benefits himself. Tom is quite dashing...more charming than Harry in a lot of respects! He's very nasty, but in a subtle, almost understated way--good call on the psychological torment. I think that's actually his preferred method for kicks as it's far more dangerous...I think you're right about Ginny having a hard time getting away...  
  
EEDOE--I want a Lockhart dartboard myself! I love the scene with Fred and George...it just seems so much like something an older brother would do. I thought Ron's gesture was sweet, too...it was about time for him to remind he's not heartless, just a little preoccupied. I'm tickled pink that you're tickled pink...*hugs*  
  
Bill--This installment is still subdued, but I think it produces a little more addrenaline. :-) I know Luna hasn't shown up yet...I realized that after I posted my last notes...but soon she'll make a brief appearance. It just feels right to have Ginny interested in Quidditch--I can picture her jumping up on her feet waving her fist and telling the ref off from the stands, can't you? ;-) Charlie must have been watching her a little closer than Ron and the twins who assume she's not interested...Good for him! I suspect Ginny is not only a Quidditch fan, but swears a bit more than anyone in the family realizes--gives her a sense of power, and suits her need for mischief. Ginny is VERY reminiscent of the twins...can't you imagine what havoc they could reach if they joined forces? *snickers* I'm so glad you reviewed...I was waiting to see what you thought! Meet you at the end of the chapter! *hugs*  
  
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After a while, Fred and George disappeared, muttering about something they wanted to work on-probably not homework whatever it might be-Percy marched off, stiff with importance, to his Prefect duties, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were hunched over the table, heads so close together they looked like one lumpy being, and it occurred to Ginny that this would be a perfect time to practice Quidditch, it being far too cold, gray and snowy, for anyone else to be much interested in budging from the cozy Christmas glow of the castle.   
  
She slipped unnoticed away from the table to collect her cloak, gloves, and scarf from the dorm, and walked across the lawn to the broom shed. She took one of the school brooms, available to any student who wished to practice, and took to the sky. She dove, she looped, she swirled, playing, enjoying the freedom of the air, imitating what she had seen Harry-and the other players-do in the matches she'd seen with Lee. When flight began to soothe her into sleepiness, Ginny dug a mundane rubber ball out of her pocket and began tossing it about, envisioning passes, the snitch, and spectacular goals.   
  
It was so dark by the time she finished that she could barely find the shed to put the broom back. She picked her way carefully across the grounds, squinting in the glow from the tip of her wand, breathing silent relief as her feet hit the flagged stone floor of the entryway.   
  
Ginny knew mum would be herding her off to bed, if she weren't there already, but she wasn't at home, and mum wasn't here. Smirking to herself at the faint taste of rebellion, she pulled the diary out of its hiding place. Sprawling out across the bed, Ginny began by writing -Happy Christmas, Tom-in letters as large and loopy as she could make them across the middle of the page.   
  
--Happy Christmas, Ginny-the page returned almost immediately. -I take it you've had a pleasant holiday?-  
  
--It's been great...I wish you could celebrate...it must be boring, stuck in a diary-  
  
--I inhabit Hogwarts just as you do...only my home is Hogwarts as I remember it...I was happy here...but it is tiring to relive the same moments over and over again-  
  
--Wouldn't it be great if you could step out of the book and into a new memory?-  
  
--I can. You help me do it every time you share your memories with me.-  
  
--Aww...that's sweet. -  
  
--If I'm sweet, I owe it to you.-  
  
Ginny blushed. -Tell me about your Christmas-  
  
--I will if you want me to...but...I could show you instead. If you want.-  
  
Ginny grinned at the sudden hesitation. Tom was always so confident. -Show me? That sounds like quite a trick.-  
  
  
  
The parchment seemed to pull thin even as she wrote on it, light shining through from some inexplicable core, dissolving the book from the center outward. Ginny shrieked, pulling back slightly. But she could see, almost as if through the thin film of someone's living room curtains, shapes moving within the book. Curious, she reached out to touch them, and her fingers passed through the book, meeting no resistance...Her stomach lurched as she fell into time...  
  
  
  
She was standing in a room she had never seen before. Huge windows at the back swum with odd blue and green light, as if water were shifting on the other side. People she didn't recognize sat on long, low, black leather sofas that looked so slick, she didn't understand why they didn't slide off. Thick pine branches hung with delicate bubbles swooped across the mantle and garlanded the ceiling. A tall boy who seemed vaguely familiar was standing at her shoulder. "Excuse me," she said, awkward and hesitant. "Where am I?"  
  
  
  
"Don't tell me you don't know the Slytherin Common Room when you see it," the boy said, sounding amused.   
  
  
  
Ginny lurched backward into a table and caught the edge with her hands, trying to keep herself upright. "Tom?"  
  
  
  
"The one and only," the boy said with the suggestion of a bow. "Surprised?"  
  
  
  
"You could say that," Ginny said faintly. Tom smirked. The expression made him look more familiar than ever, and she could feel recognition struggling deep in her bones, trying to rise to the surface.   
  
  
  
"See what you're missing?" Tom teased.   
  
  
  
The entire room felt cool and light and slick, and Ginny found herself picturing being trapped in the center of a large block of ice. "Very impressive," she said, fighting the urge to frown. "How did I get here?"  
  
  
  
"I brought you through your connection to me," Tom said conversationally. "This place is as much yours as mine...the creation of our shared thoughts."  
  
  
  
"That sounds...nice," Ginny said, torn between feeling touched and profound discomfort, "but what does it mean?"  
  
  
  
"Why does it have to mean anything," Tom countered, "Isn't it enough that this time and this place belong to us-we are part of them because we are part of one another?"  
  
  
  
"I..." Ginny began, not knowing what she meant to say. Something about his face leaning into hers made her stomach twitch uncomfortably...she couldn't help feeling as if she'd seen it before...  
  
  
  
"You," Tom said smoothly, in a way that only made her stomach struggle harder, "are a very special person, Ginny. Without you to recall my memories, I wouldn't exist at all."  
  
  
  
"I...uh...you're special too, Tom," Ginny said, casting a wild look at the oblivious people around them. /They probably don't even know I'm here/, she thought with a strange feeling of surreality. /Because I wasn't./ Unconsciously, she raised a hand to her head, wondering if this was just another symptom of going mad.   
  
"Yes," he said softly. Maybe it was the confusion of her spinning thoughts, but suddenly he sounded like the snake she thought she'd heard. "I am...even more special than Harry Potter."  
  
Startled, Ginny tried to pull away, but even if the table hadn't been blocking her path, Tom moved far too fast. His lips struck against hers in the quick, sharp jab of a striking snake. Something cold-impossibly cold-and very black sunk into her with a fanged bite. It coiled through her, wrapping around her insides, squeezing her in a serpentine embrace. She gasped in a feeling akin to pain, a thin sob of fear and despair.   
  
"What are you doing?" she tried to shout, his lips obstructing hers.   
  
Tom laughed, a high cold sound. A sound without mercy or mirth. And Ginny saw his face murkily in the distance, as if lurking in the depths of a misty mirror... 


	25. Hermione's Vanishing Act

Disclaimer--Still the property of JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic and WB...darn it. Also still intended only as flattery...  
  
Author's Notes--  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries-I can't promise I'll always be this prompt, but here's the update. ;-)  
  
EEDOE--Venomously charming is the PERFECT way to describe Tom! I hope I really have managed to paint a vivid picture--thanks so much for saying so! It's nice to watch Ginny grow and develop across the page (the depth of experience Ginny has was what first inspired this story!)...for me the best thing about reading--or writing--is discovering the characters, and sharing that with someone like you is an amazing feeling. It makes my day you would be interested in my version of Ginny's experience in OTP!! :-D I've actually been considering carrying her all the way through PoA and GoF as well as OTP IF--big "if"--I can create enough events to make it interesting, but maybe I should just skip to OTP and hope invention and the muse will stick around that long. What do you think? I'd welcome the input...anybody?   
  
Bill--The promised cameo from Luna is in this chapter. I'm a little surprised at the speed myself. Momentum, I guess, but I suspect it will slow down soon...but hopefully they'll continue regularly and without absence. *crosses fingers* Tom's appearance at the end of the last chapter was a bit of a surprise to me, so I don't have it completely figured out myself...his face-to-face meeting with Ginny is some sort of physical manifestation of Ginny's dawning awareness of his presence inside her...I suspect he kissed her because it was a dramatic and sadistic flourish with which he could exert more direct control. Other than that...*grins and shrugs* Ask Tom. *winks* Interesting point about the obliviousness...Part of Ginny's awareness and compassion is that she is a girl, and introspective, but Bill and Charlie may have had a lot to do with its development. Her relationships with them, as well as the repercussions of her experience with the diary are some of the things I would like to explore in writing any further stories, particularly her second year. Can't wait to hear what you think. Cheers!  
  
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Ginny jerked awake, panting. She waited, half-sitting, half-laying across the bed, until her heart gave up its mad race. Sweat trickled cold down her back, making her shiver. She reached for the water pitcher, kept cool and full for any student with the sudden urge for a late night drink, but her hand was shaking so badly she could barely lift it, let alone pour. Water splashed across the floor, forming a slowly expanding puddle. Ginny ignored it, sipping desperately at the water as if it could wash away her sense of defilement.   
  
She snapped her head around to look back over her shoulder-the diary was laying in the center of bed, blank and unthreatening. Panic swelled in her throat, blocking air, but she could still hear herself making sounds, faint whimpers that sounded alien to her ears. She dropped the cup, heedless of where it landed, of whether or not it was even empty, and ran.   
  
"Ginny!" Ron said.   
  
She paused, shifting nervously from foot to foot, desperate to stay in motion, anxious to be gone.   
  
"Fred and George start a fire?"  
  
For a split second, Ginny forgot her fear. "No," she said, even as it crashed over her again, "At least...I don't think so."  
  
"Are...you okay?" Harry asked, looking uncertain.   
  
The darkness coiled through her surged, and Ginny nearly laughed with the bitterness in her mouth. /If only he noticed me some other time...any other time. Or had any thought about me at all...other than that Fred and George have upset me joking about the Chamber of Secrets./ She barely managed to keep from rolling her eyes.   
  
"Sure," Ginny said, trying to ignore her voice, stretched and thin, "Why wouldn't I be?"  
  
"Looked like you were running as if your life depended on it," Ron said curiously, his eyes on her as he moved his pawn.   
  
"I just woke up and...remembered I had a Potions assignment," Ginny said. "Snape'll kill me if it's not done."   
  
"Horrible git," Ron said.  
  
Harry, scowling at the board in concentration, nodded as if he agreed.  
  
"We'd help, but we probably wouldn't even be passing if it weren't for Hermione."  
  
Ginny stared for so long she began to wonder if she'd lost the ability to form coherent thoughts. "Where...is Hermione?"  
  
"Hospital wing," Ron said conversationally.  
  
Ginny could feel the floor drop away. /I've just killed Ron's best friend-one of them, anyway. How can he take it so calmly?/  
  
She hadn't said anything, but even Ron noticed the look on her face. "No!" he said quickly, so loud his pieces turned around to see what he was talking about. "No-it's not like that...It wasn't the Chamber of Secrets."  
  
Ginny's knees tried to buckle. She dropped hastily onto the nearest ottoman. "Then what--?"  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged quick looks that normally would have annoyed her. Now she was just impatient for them to finish.   
  
"She...had a bit of an accident," Harry said vaguely.  
  
"Oh," Ginny said in a temporary return of sarcasm. "That clears that up."  
  
The boys exchanged looks again, the chess game forgotten.   
  
"She was researching something...for extra credit," Ron said in a rush, "and made a bit of a mistake."  
  
"Madam Pomfrey says she'll be up in no time," Harry added hurriedly.   
  
Ginny let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Oh...good," she said in an attempt at unconcern. "In that case, I best get on with my assignment." She all but sprinted for the library, made straight for the shadowy concealment of a hidden study niche without so much as a glance for the books, and proceeded to shake uncontrollably. She cowered there for the rest of the break, thinking, barely pausing to sleep or to eat.   
  
Whether Hermione had been attacked or not, she knew she was somehow connected to the attacks...and now she knew Tom was connected as well. If she didn't tell someone...But what would happen if she told Professor Dumbledore? How would she be able to convince him she didn't know how or why she had done what she thought she had done...when she wasn't even completely sure she had done it at all? And if he made her leave Hogwarts...Every time she thought about it, she wanted to cry. But who else was there to tell? Harry? He already looked at her as if she were something a little bizarre and possibly dangerous...if she told him, how would he look at her then? Would she ever be able to be his friend like Ron? Ron-she could tell him...but even if he managed to sit through the explanation, what then? What could he do about it? What if he got hurt? But...  
  
Harry and Ron said Hermione hadn't been attacked...no one had since Justin...and now that she knew the diary was part of the problem, maybe it would get better if she just didn't use it...and once the mandrakes were ready, there would be no harm done...  
  
She almost had herself convinced...  
  
Term began and days passed with no sign of Hermione...  
  
"Zacharias says Hermione Granger was attacked," Luna Lovegood told her in Potions one day. "Zacharias says she must have been petrified like all the rest-they'd have told us if she were dead. Zacharias says it's awfully strange that almost everyone here were Harry's friends, and that no one saw what attacked. He thinks Harry attacked her and they're protecting him--"  
  
Ginny opened her mouth indignantly, but Luna was already continuing, "but I told him that was nuts. Why would Harry attack Hermione? She's one of his best friends. I told him Harry's a hero and he's just jealous."  
  
"That's great, Luna." Ginny forced a rather sickly smile, but Luna didn't seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm.   
  
"My dad always knew the Chamber of Secrets existed," Luna said.   
  
"Does he know how to close it?" Ginny asked a trifle acerbically.   
  
Luna screwed up her face in intense concentration. "Umm...I'm not sure...I don't really remember...he hasn't talked about in a long time..."  
  
"You didn't talk about it when you went home for Christmas?" Bion asked in disbelief.  
  
Luna shrugged. "It never came up really?"  
  
Bion looked at Ginny in wild bemusement, clearly desperate to ask how it could fail to come up. Ginny raised her eyebrows vaguely, worrying all over again...what if Hermione had been attacked and Ron was just trying to protect her-with Harry's help? A warm drop of happiness trickled through the dark mud of her worry. If Harry is helping Ron protect me, he must care about me a little.   
  
"If you care to talk," Professor Snape interjected silkily, "Perhaps I could arrange a meeting for you-in detention."  
  
Luna stared at him blankly, but turned back to his cauldron as he walked away. Bion eyed Ginny as if he wanted to continue the conversation, but didn't say anything. Ginny barely noticed, mired in her own distant thoughts. 


	26. Back to Myrtle

Disclaimer--Still the property of JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic and WB...darn it. Also still intended only as flattery...Trust me, I have NOTHING.  
  
Author's Notes--  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--Glad to see you're still reading. Hope you enjoy this!  
  
EEDOE--Poor Ginny...looking for a way to feel less invisible and ignored, she ended up losing even more of herself. I wonder if most readers realize the emotional impact of some of the subjects Ms. Rowling explores. Her diversity and wisdom amaze me. I remember what it feels like to cling to those crushes myself...bittersweet. I really appreciate your input about any sequels I might write...I'm going to mull it over while I work on finishing this one. ;-) Thanks for your support! *hugs*  
  
Bill--I'm getting quite attached to Ginny. She's charmingly complex. ;-) Thanks for your advice--I agree with you about GoF and the lead-in to OTP (as well as on Ginny "giving up" on Harry versus "getting over")...I sat down and worked out a rough list of scenes that might be included in Ginny's 2nd and 3rd years, and it looks like I MIGHT be able to manage two stories somewhere between a third and a half the size of this one, but the sheer volume of committment would be huge, and everyone might lose interest...So I'm still mulling it over. In the meantime, finishing this one will be an accomplishment of its own...one that might never have happened without your encouragement. Thanks! *hugs*  
  
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Even if it hadn't been the last class of the day, Ginny still would have headed straight for the dorm, single-mindedly determined to vanquish her demons, as if the attacks would disappear along with the diary.   
  
The diary she hadn't looked at since Christmas. The very sight of it made her stomach roll uncomfortably. The room was silent, but she felt as if Tom was hissing in her ear, the words too soft for her to make out. Ginny stared at the plain little book, unable to bring herself to pick it up, certain the moment he did she'd feel his touch sear through her.   
  
"For Hermione," she said out loud, using the words to firm her resolve, shaky as they were. She lifted her chin defiantly, squared her shoulders, sucked in a deep breath. She snatched it up in one hurried motion before she could lose her nerve, and ran dangling it between her thumb and forefinger an arm's length away from her.   
  
She hadn't known she was going to Myrtle's bathroom until she got there, but underneath the first jolt of surprise was a strange conviction that disposing of Tom's diary here, where he had somehow drawn her away from reality and away from herself so many times, was fitting...surely the site of a nightmare was the best place to exorcise it.   
  
Ginny reached out to throw it away, and looked down at it one last time. She frowned, shaking. She hadn't meant to do that, she hadn't wanted to look at it ever again. All she wanted was to get rid of it. She wished she'd never found it, never seen it to begin with.   
  
It looked so plain, so ordinary, so unassuming....like her...it held the hopes and dreams and fears of innermost heart...she didn't want to throw them away.   
  
It held the face of boy she saw when she looked in the mirror, a face connected with near-forgotten memories of snakes and cold, crushing knowledge of her own inner evil. She wanted to get rid of him...rid of the horror that haunted her, the horror she half-suspected he brought her.   
  
  
  
Tom had listened to her when no one else had...comforted her when she was forgotten...soothed her when she was frightened, advised her when she was uncertain....he was her closest and most loyal friend...she didn't know what she would do without him...  
  
  
  
Instinctively, Ginny pulled her hand back toward her as if to reclaim the diary, to protect it...  
  
  
  
And remembered the look on Colin's face.   
  
  
  
She saw it on Hermione's face. On Harry's. On Ron's.  
  
  
  
Ginny gave a strangled shout, tossed the diary into the toilet as hard as she could, and flushed.  
  
  
  
There was a muffled plunk and gurgle, and only the surface of the water in the toilet, silent and still. Ginny watched it, feeling strangely blank and empty.   
  
  
  
Water erupted without warning, splashing in torrents over her head, the stall, the floor. It ran down her face, blinding her, and flooded her shoes. And it kept coming.   
  
  
  
Coughing, wiping her hand down her face in an attempt to get rid of the water, Ginny dived for the doorway, her feet slipping and sliding across the stone floor.   
  
  
  
The hallway was already starting to flood. Ginny splashed through it, looking around for witnesses, but it seemed deserted, as if she were the only person left in a world gone mad.   
  
  
  
"What happened to you?" a sardonic drawl demanded from the foot of the stairs, interrupting her squelching progress to the dorm.   
  
  
  
"Toilet," Ginny said shortly, not bothering to turn around.   
  
  
  
"You must have made it sick. I've never seen that much water come out of a toilet," the voice sneered. "You look like one drowned Weasel."  
  
  
  
"Better a wet weasel than a slippery rat," Ginny retorted, pointing at Malfoy with her wand. She was pleasantly surprised to see her hand was steady.  
  
  
  
"Ooh...the Weasel's gonna curse me," Malfoy whined. "What are you going to do-make me a relative?"  
  
  
  
"I wouldn't punish my family that way," Ginny said coolly.  
  
"Virginia Eileen Weasley!"   
  
  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes without bothering to turn around, let alone lower her wand. /Percy again./  
  
  
  
"What is going on here?"  
  
  
  
"I just asked her why she was so wet," Draco said ingratiatingly, "and she went berserk-I don't think your sister's all there, Weasley."  
  
  
  
"I am a Prefect," Percy snapped. "You should address me respectfully-I've already told you that. Ginny, how did you get so wet?"  
  
  
  
"What difference does it make?" Ginny demanded. She would have crossed her arms if she hadn't been holding her wand.  
  
  
  
"You've been up to no good." Percy said sharply. "Did Fred and George put you up to this?"  
  
"I haven't done anything!" Ginny contradicted. "I just got wet...and Malfoy insulted me!"  
  
  
  
"I don't have time to get to the bottom of this," Percy announced importantly. "So let's just make it 5 points from Slytherin for insolence, and 10 from Gryffindor for fighting in the corridors, shall we?"  
  
  
  
"But Percy--" Ginny protested indignantly as Malfoy glowered threateningly at them both.  
  
  
  
"Move along," Percy ordered shortly.  
  
  
  
Malfoy cast one last disparaging look at Ginny's dripping robes and Percy's too-shiny badge, and subsided into the background.  
  
  
  
"Mr. Malfoy is very influential at the Ministry of Magic," Percy hissed at her as she started to push past him up the stairs. "It might be to your benefit to be nice to his son, Virginia."  
  
  
  
"It might be to your benefit to pull your head out of--" Ginny started to snarl back.  
  
  
  
"5 more points from Gryffindor for disrespect," Percy interrupted.   
  
  
  
Ginny snorted. Her socks gushed softly as she climbed another step, and the soles of her shoes squeaked loudly.   
  
  
  
Percy muttered something, and heat rose through her robes, sending up clouds of steam. She was still damp, but at least she wasn't dripping wet.   
  
  
  
Ginny sighed. "Thanks, Percy," she said grudgingly, but Percy was already hurrying on.   
  
  
  
Just to cheer herself up a bit, she crept into the boys' dorm and stole a pair of socks from Lee's trunk. Not only was it nice to have dry feet, she thought the twinkling silver stars and white crescent moons looked quite attractive against their navy background, and it was a much needed ego boost to feel so handsomely attired...not to mention the thrill of amused mischief...she had missed it.  
  
  
  
She started lock-picking lessons with Lee that night, and he never once mentioned his missing socks, which only added to her enjoyment. The lessons were highly enlightening, as well as great fun, and quickly became weekly events throughout the month of January. 


	27. Mischief Making Aids

Disclaimer--Still the property of JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic and WB...darn it. Also still intended only as flattery...Trust me, I have NOTHING.  
  
Author's Notes--  
  
EEDOE--Thanks for the correction on Percy's full name. :-) I thought Ginny nicking Lee's socks was a nice touch. ;-) Good job picking up on Percy's comment about the Ministry Magic! I thought Ginny, Percy, and Draco on the stairs was hilarious...I'm glad you enjoyed it too!! (And that you enjoy the next bit as well) Getting rid of the diary is a lot like losing a friend, or even breaking up with a boyfriend...suddenly an intimate part of your life you relied on is missing. I'm glad you think I handled it realistically. Sometimes feelings like that are too powerful to do full justice to.   
  
Bill--Awww!! You're so sweet! *hugs*   
  
I'm amazed--and incredibly touched--you would be willing to share a personal connection to what's happening to Ginny. It sounds like you went through a horrible/painful experience of your own...but maybe that helped make you into the perceptive person you are today. *hugs* I think most of us do face similar experiences in our lives, but not all of us let them affect us as deeply...and those who do are never quite stop reliving the choice between what we love and what we need. I have a friend who's going through something similar right now, and sympathy for her made it easier to access my own memories of how Ginny might feel.  
  
I agree with you about OotP, and was going to add something about Percy talking to Dumbledore about the point penalties, when I happened to run across a trivia point on Mugglenet.com that mentions Percy took points from Harry, Ron, and Hermione earlier in CoS (CH. 9)...so here's my BS explaination--Prefects can't take points, but Percy is power hungry, and counts on the fact the younger students don't know that to make himself more important and help exert his authority, which fits in nicely with the development of his tunnel-vision ambition? *grins and shrugs* Nice catch, though--I appreciate the heads-up! :-D  
  
I know you've been looking forward to a specific moment between Ginny and Percy...I hope this doesn't disappoint! ;-)  
  
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At the beginning of February lessons progressed-or regressed-to some of Hogwarts lesser known rooms and locations.  
  
  
  
Ginny couldn't help doubting just how unknown some of them really were-especially after she crept into one such spot-an unused classroom-following Lee's instructions, only to find it being put to use after all. It took her several minutes to recover, but it didn't seem to be a problem, as the occupants were far too busy to notice she was there.   
  
  
  
"Percy Ignatius Weasley," Ginny said, something she had been dying to do ever since October. She thought she had managed a fairly decent imitation of mum-better than his at any rate. Percy certainly thought so, he jumped at least a foot, nearly knocking the curly-haired girl he had been kissing off her feet.   
  
  
  
"You must be the reason he was locked up with Hermes all summer," Ginny said by way of greeting.   
  
The curly-haired girl made an awkward little gesture that still managed grace. Her cheeks were slightly pink, and she couldn't quite manage to look Ginny in the eye, but she was handling the embarrassment well.  
  
Better than Ginny's darling brother, at any rate. Percy was a red so dark it almost looked like a lobster being boiled.   
  
Ginny suppressed a grin.  
  
"Hermes?" the girl ventured.   
  
"His owl," Ginny explained.   
  
The ghost of a smile touched the girl's lips, illuminating her face. At least Percy had good taste. "I suppose I am," she said, looking at Percy in a way that seemed to help him regain a little pride.   
  
"I'm his little sister," Ginny said when it became obvious Percy wasn't ready to say anything. "Ginny Weasley."  
  
The girl's smile deepened. "Penelope Clearwater."  
  
"So is she your girlfriend?" Ginny demanded, staring at Percy.  
  
"I...that is...well...I suppose..." Percy said.   
  
Ginny watched his face change colors while she waited. Penelope watched him too. Like a hawk.   
  
"It's really..." Percy tried again. "It's not as if..."  
  
"Is she?" Penelope demanded.   
  
"Yes!" Percy exploded with the air of someone persecuted into admitting their most shameful secret. Penelope beamed. Ginny giggled.   
  
"So why haven't mentioned her to us?"  
  
Penny pulled back slightly from the hug she'd rewarded him with. Percy looked like a rabbit cornered by a very hungry owl.   
  
"Because....you'd have wanted to meet her," he said in a rush.   
  
"Percy Weasley," Penelope said dangerously, "are you suggesting you're ashamed to introduce me to your family?"  
  
"Yes!" Percy said, his eyes widening as he suddenly realized what he'd said. 'No...I mean I'm ashamed to introduce them to you...the twins..."  
  
"They're...mischievous," Ginny offered, taking pity on him.   
  
"For starters," Percy huffed. "They'd rather make trouble than learn anything useful. We'll never have a moment's peace and quiet if the twins find out."  
  
Penelope looked at Ginny inquiringly. Ginny shrugged. "Probably true, I'm afraid," she said, without a hint of remorse.   
  
"I just wanted to enjoy our time together without having to defend myself all the time," Percy said.   
  
"Really?" Penelope asked hopefully.  
  
"You'd make any man proud," Percy elaborated. "That's why I don't want you to be embarrassed by the twins."  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes, but luckily, Penelope was so caught up in Percy she didn't notice.   
  
"That's so sweet," Penelope trilled.   
  
Percy fixed Ginny with a look. "You won't tell, will you?"  
  
Ginny thought of the joy of torturing her brothers-particularly the twins-with the knowledge she knew a useful piece of information for making mischief and they didn't, and released it with a sigh. "Of course not."  
  
'Promise?" Percy asked, and the look in his eyes was so pleading, Ginny couldn't even find it in her to begrudge him.   
  
"Promise."  
  
Percy nearly crumpled with relief. Then, his own problems out of the way, the Prefect took over again. "What are you doing in here anyway?"  
  
"Nothing," Ginny said blankly. "I must have gotten lost."  
  
"You'd have to be really lost to end up down here," Penelope said, but Ginny could tell she didn't mean anything by it. "Maybe we should take you-where were you going?"  
  
Ginny thought fast. "Potions. Snape gave me detention." He certainly threatens to enough. "I probably just took a wrong turn. I should be able to find it."  
  
"She's not that far off," Percy added, his attention already on Penelope again.   
  
"Well," Penelope said, obviously torn, "if you're sure..."  
  
"Absolutely." Ginny said, backing out of the room. "Have fun."  
  
She'd have to head Lee off if she wanted to keep Percy's little secret. She was tempted to consider embarrassing him in the hopes it would take his ego down a peg or two, but Penelope probably didn't deserve it. Besides, like him or not, he was family.   
  
She didn't have to wait long. She'd barely started away from the door when she met him. "Found it, I see," he greeted, his face splitting into a wide grin.   
  
Ginny's own grin emerged in immediate response, making it harder to concentrate on distracting him. "Not much to look at," she said dismissively.   
  
"Course not," Lee said. "Point isn't what it looks like...it's what you can do with it."  
  
"Maybe," Ginny said, "but I can't think of any good mischief right now, Lee."  
  
Lee looked mightily taken aback. "Why not?"  
  
"Too hungry," Ginny replied at once. Since she really hadn't eaten all day, her stomach rumbled immediate agreement.  
  
"Well, in that case," Lee said thoughtfully, "maybe it's time we found the entrance to the kitchens..."   
  
Not only was Percy's secret safe, but they had quite a nice late tea as well, surrounded by jovial and doting house elves. Even Lee didn't really mind the switch. 


	28. A Well Intentioned Gesture

Disclaimer--Still the property of JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic and WB...darn it. Also still intended only as flattery...Dialogue concerning V-day is taken from CoS text, but no copyright infrigement is intended, and no profit is being made. Trust me, I have NOTHING, please don't sue.   
  
Author's Notes--  
  
EEDOE--I loved Percy's discomfort throughout that whole scene...it was highly entertaining...and considering what a hard time he's given Ginny, it certainly felt like poetic justice. ;-) I'm glad you liked the bit about the twins...I thought it was pretty realistic!! I changed his name to fit with OotP, I hadn't realized it was mentioned! Penelope...just sort of appeared on the page, so I guess she chose her own personality. I hope it fits with canon, but it's she's a bit of a mystery (as every woman has the right to be. ;-) ) Lee is great...I love how he's such a bad influence. :-D I hope you enjoy Ginny's next mishap as much. *hugs*  
  
Bill--I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! You're right about the hint...I was refering to Chapter 7. *winks* One of the fun things about Ginny's mischief so far is that no one in her family realizes how far it stretches, not even the twins. I'm not sure they ever will, but I do plan to have them share more joint adventures later. I'm thrilled Ginny's more natural moments remind you so much of her later personality...I consider that an incredible compliment. *grins and blushes* I definitely think one of the noticable things about Ginny in OotP is that while Hermione is the uncontested Genius and Bookworm, Ginny is practical and clever--she struck me as very smart. I'm glad my Ginny portrays some of that, too. The storm is on the way, and I hope I can do justice to it, but, in the meantime, Ginny's about to prove she may be smart, but she isn't infalliable...*winks* Enjoy! *hugs*   
  
***********************  
  
They regained the Common Room to find Hermione had reappeared.  
  
Ginny eyed her closely every chance she got over the next two weeks, and couldn't see the slightest sign of a run-in with a snake...or of anything else for that matter. She couldn't help feeling relieved, and a little encouraged, as if Hermione's return to health was indeed a sign she could pretend her mysterious experiences with Tom Riddle's diary had never happened. Even the rumor Madam Pomfrey had been overheard telling Mr. Filch the Mandrakes would be ready for the restoration potion soon didn't worry her...much. She tried not to think about it...which was a bit hard, really, with the memory of Tom's voice saying her name echoing sibilantly in the back of her mind, as if calling her. She kept telling herself that if she didn't remember what happened, the victims probably didn't remember either, the words repeating themselves in her thoughts over and over like a mantra, mingling with the sound of Tom's voice until they merged in one constant wave of internal hissing that left her head dizzy and spinning. But if she felt less relief than most, she wasn't alone. There was Harry.  
  
Harry, who'd lost his family to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-all except a vile Aunt and Uncle who locked him up and starved him, and Ginny refused to believe they counted-who'd never had a friend until he met Ron, who'd never done anything but try to defend the school and his fellow students. Harry who never got so much as a thank you from anyone but Dumbledore. Harry who now had to put up with being accused loudly at every turn for something she herself had done...Every time she thought of it, Ginny was nearly overrun with tears.   
  
Whenever she heard Gilderoy Lockhart telling someone he'd made the school safe again, Ginny had the urge to look him straight in the face and tell him that if he really wanted to do something useful, he'd say something nice to Harry.   
  
  
  
She went down to Valentine's breakfast in a dark cloud. Finding herself confronted by huge flowers of a pink so blinding they made her head hurt, only made it thicker and darker. If she hadn't wanted a cup of coffee and something fattening to cheer herself, she'd have walked right back out.  
  
  
  
Coffee-in-hand, Ginny wondered if she hadn't made a mistake in staying. Heart-shaped confetti floated in her cup and dotted the surface of her cheese omelet. As much as she liked Hermione, and as worried as she had been with her in the infirmary, Ginny couldn't quite stifle the impulse to hex her if she didn't stop giggling. At least Ron's slightly nauseous expression better suited her mood.   
  
  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked. He was fighting a loosing battle for his bacon against the confetti. Ginny felt for him, but, then, she always did.   
  
  
  
Ron pointed to the Teacher's Table.  
  
  
  
Ginny nearly spit out her coffee. Lockhart was wearing robes to match the flowers! The rest of the teachers looked as if they'd all been sent Howlers. Only Dumbledore seemed completely unaffected. If it wasn't impossible, Ginny might have thought he just hadn't noticed.   
  
  
  
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted gleefully. Ginny groaned. Harry shot her a commiserating look. At least, she thought he did-she might have imagined it. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards!"  
  
  
  
Hermione was eyeing Lockhart with a rapt expression, and she seemed a little flushed. Ginny had the nasty impression if Hermione had been facing her, she wouldn't have met her eye. /She has to have more sense than that/, Ginny argued with herself. /Hermione's brilliant!/ She couldn't worry about that now, she had bigger problems. Lockhart was saying, "It doesn't end here!" He clapped his hands, and a dozen winged dwarves marched through the double doors wearing expressions like Ginny's. "My friendly card-carrying cupids! They'll be roving around the school today delivering your valentines!" Ginny wondered how he managed to avoid hearing the collective groan that seemed to shudder through the Hall.   
  
  
  
Valentines! What was he thinking, thinking people would enjoy being singled out in front of everyone to receive embarrassing notes from other people they never knew existed? Standing in the center of a staring, muttering group with no control over what was happening to you and no idea what to do was more Ginny's idea of sadistic torture than an exciting treat. /Odd, considering it sounds like a typical day with my family/, she thought with an ironic twist of her lips.   
  
  
  
Realization struck like lightning.   
  
  
  
/Family./  
  
  
  
Harry had no family...  
  
  
  
No one had ever told Harry they love him the way Mum and Dad told her-the way she and her brothers knew they felt about one another...No one had ever told Harry how much he meant to them...  
  
  
  
He deserved that much. Everyone did-even Malfoy-let alone someone as thoughtful and brave and kind as Harry.  
  
  
  
If she really wanted to reach out to him, to help him feel less alone, she'd give it to him.  
  
  
  
/Torture. The whole school knowing how I feel.../ Ginny stopped in mid-thought, startled. She blinked, tipped her head to the side, considered, and tried to start again. /They already know/, the other side of her brain repeated impatiently.   
  
  
  
Ernie Macmillan's face as she yelled at him in the library came back in perfect relief, making her snicker.   
  
  
  
/All right, all right...you got me...but it would still embarrass Harry./  
  
  
  
  
  
/Unless they give it to him when he's alone. Imbecile./ Ginny slapped her forehead at the simplicity of it all, drawing a few confused looks from the Slytherins, who nodded at one another knowingly. She ignored them without even trying, a trick she wished she could remember for later and knew she wouldn't, and started composing Harry's valentine in her head.  
  
  
  
In her rush to catch a dwarf, she all but threw her pot at Professor Sprout when she began to collect them at the end of class, only adding to the Slytherin's amusement, but she was a girl with a mission. /Well...what else is new/, she observed to herself sarcastically. /Shut up/, she retorted wittily, and grabbed the dwarf who'd just been singing to Doug Duran by the back of the shirt.   
  
  
  
"I want to send someone a private valentine. Can I do that?"  
  
  
  
"That's what we're here for," the dwarf droned, rolling his eyes. "To deliver messages of love throughout the day."  
  
  
  
"I've got that," Ginny said shortly. "But I want you to deliver this one just to the recipient without anyone listening in-capeesh?"  
  
  
  
"You mean alone?" the dwarf asked, proving he wasn't a stranger to sarcasm himself.   
  
  
  
"Exactly," Ginny said. "I want you to give it to him alone."  
  
  
  
"Well," the dwarf said huffily, "if that's what you want."  
  
  
  
Ginny was going to be late for Transfiguration if she didn't get a move on. "Great," she said, stabbing the dwarf with her note. He gave her an extremely dirty look. Already heading back to the castle, she shrugged apologetically and kept moving. 


	29. Before Madness

Disclaimer--Still the property of JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic and WB...darn it. Also still intended only as flattery...Dialogue concerning V-day is taken from CoS text, but no copyright infrigement is intended, and no profit is being made. Trust me, I have NOTHING, please don't sue.   
  
Author's Notes--  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--Happy to do what I can. ;-) Glad to see you're still hanging in there with us.   
  
EEDOE--Everyone else seems to take it for granted that Harry doesn't miss his family too much because he deals with it so well (of course, appearances may be deceiving...they may notice and try not to make a big deal of it because Harry wouldn't appreciate being so vulnerable). I think Ginny's ability to see how he might be feeling and willingness to deal with it are traits that make her very special...and that Harry will need very much later in the war with Voldemort. It is too bad she's about to be horribly embarrassed by seeing her plan go awry, but...such is adolescence...*sighs*   
  
Bill--Got it in one. Ginny's smart, she's intuitive, she's competent...but she's only eleven...she's bound to do something stupid once in a while. Actually, it's kind of nice to know that when she does, it's concern for someone else that gets her into trouble, and not selfishness (that stuff Dumbledore is always saying about a person's choices). I think Harry hasn't quite grown into appreciating just how nice Ginny's emotional observations can be...but by OotP, there are some signs (scene in the library anyone?) he's starting to catch on. Harry's got a great heart, and it almost always leads him right...but I think Ginny may end up teaching him a lot about how to use it...(now watch, Ginny will go back to relative obscurity and I'll look silly *rolls eyes* I guess that will teach me to embarrass her this way...)   
  
*********************  
  
Ginny found it nearly impossible to concentrate the rest of the day, wondering if Harry had received her valentine yet and what he thought. On the way to their last class, Tempest critiqued the Transfiguration lesson at length, while Ginny struggled to pay attention.  
  
  
  
"Oy, you! Harry Potter!" shouted a surly voice Ginny recognized with a sinking feeling. Beside her, Tempest stood on tiptoe craning her neck in an effort to see what was going on. Ginny's cheeks began to burn. She hadn't noticed before, but Harry was standing almost directly in front of them, and he was no more comfortable than she was at this new development if the look on his face was any indication. The dwarf cleared a path through the gathering crowd of curious students-shouts of pain and indignation as he passed giving rise to curiousity about his methods.   
  
  
  
"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," the dwarf announced. His harp made a dangerous noise. Several students edged nervously back.   
  
  
  
"In private, you prat," Ginny muttered. "You're supposed to deliver it in private." She didn't dare speak up for fear of aggravating the situation. She was so irritated at the dwarf's stupid mistake, it took her a minute to ask, "Since when is a note musical?" louder than she'd intended.   
  
  
  
"How'dya know it's a note?" Tempest asked, eyeing her avidly.   
  
  
  
Ginny shrugged, and feigned interest in the dwarf's exchange with Harry.   
  
  
  
Harry hissed something, low meaningless sounds reminiscent of his use of Parseltongue at the Dueling Club. Of course, she'd understood that, but she didn't have to be able to make out the words to guess what he was saying this time. "Not here," Ginny mumbled.  
  
  
  
"Stay still," the dwarf ordered in a manner that would make a troll proud. Harry ignored him, trying to push past him to freedom, but the dwarf caught him by the bag. Ginny groaned.   
  
  
  
"Let me go!" Harry shouted, jerking back with a loud rip. Books thudded against the stones, and his ink bottle joined them in a tinkle and a splash. Ginny would have helped him gather it all up, but having caused his dilemma, she couldn't bring herself to look him in the face. She snorted bitterly, annoyed at her own cowardice, and stayed where she was, stomach aching with sympathy.   
  
  
  
"What's going on here?" Malfoy drawled.   
  
  
  
"Great," Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes. /Just what we needed./  
  
  
  
"What's going on here?" Percy seconded stuffily.   
  
  
  
Apparently giving up all hope of dignity, Harry tried to run, only to have the dwarf tackle him. Ginny winced as he hit the floor, hard-it sounded like hurt.   
  
  
  
"Right," the dwarf trilled, sounding almost cheerful as he perched on Harry's ankles. "Here's your singing valentine.  
  
His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,  
  
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.  
  
I wish he were mine, He's really divine,  
  
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."  
  
  
  
Harry struggled to his feet, kicking-Ginny suspected not quite accidentally-at the dwarf several times in the process, and choked out several big, fake laughs without looking at anyone.   
  
  
  
Most of the crowd was laughing so hard, they could barely move even with Percy herding them off in various directions. For once, Ginny could have kissed him for his constant interference. "Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class now," stiff with importance, made beautiful music. "And you, Malfoy--" Ginny looked round at the tone in Percy's voice, and froze.   
  
  
  
A leering Malfoy held Tom's diary in his hand.   
  
  
  
Her diary.   
  
  
  
"Give it back, Malfoy," Harry demanded softly, his eyes dangerous, before Ginny had time to question how Malfoy had gotten ahold of it.   
  
  
  
"When I've had a look," Malfoy taunted, brandishing his prize. Ginny's stomach knotted a little more tightly with every wave and flourish.   
  
"As a school Prefect--" Percy began to interject, but Harry didn't wait for him to finish. "Expelliarmus!"  
  
  
  
The diary catapulted through the air and landed neatly in Ron's grasp as Ginny fought to swallow the bitter taste of bile. Even her heart seemed to be holding its breath.   
  
  
  
Her brother had Tom Riddle's diary.   
  
  
  
Ginny didn't know whether to be more concerned about what Ron might hear about her from Tom, or about what Tom might end up doing to Ron-what if Tom drove her brother crazy? It would be her fault...Mum would never forgive her...  
  
  
  
And it wasn't just Ron...it was-  
  
  
  
"Harry!" Percy objected, "no magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know."  
  
  
  
She was going to fall down any second. She couldn't stop shaking. She had to get away. She had to think.  
  
  
  
Belatedly, Ginny started to join the rest of her class.  
  
  
  
"I don't think Potter liked your valentine too much!" Malfoy shouted as she passed.   
  
  
  
Wishing for death before madness, Ginny buried her face in her hands.  
  
  
  
She had banished that diary to the pits of the school plumbing herself...how had it ended up with Harry and Ron? Were they following her? Did they know? Had Tom talked to them? What had he said? Was he mad? Did he miss her? She missed him...  
  
  
  
She would have sat in the classroom all night, her mind chasing itself in increasingly frantic circles, if Tempest had poked her in the shoulder so insistently she nearly fell out of her chair. The others went to dinner, but she went straight to bed and pulled the curtains shut around her, as if locking out the world. She lay there, staring at the waving shadows all around her, almost in a trance, until she had no idea how long she'd been there.   
  
  
  
She could hear Fred and George in the Common Room, belting off-key renditions of her ill-judged valentine, pushing her deeper and deeper into her own unthinking shell...a place where she didn't have to feel anything because she felt too much, a place where she didn't have to know what to do because she had no idea...at last, she knew-Ginny Weasley was lost. 


	30. Stick a Pin in It

Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine.  
  
Author's Notes--  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--Two chapters at once for your reading pleasure...plus, they make more sense that way. ;-)  
  
EEDOE--I'm actually flattered you called that painful...I must have done a good job portraying the awkwardness and humiliation of the situation. *grins* I hope you enjoy the library scene as much as I did. I'm looking forward to re-reading OotP soon myself. And, in conclusion--Bring on the Ginny!! *winks* *hugs*  
  
Bill--What a beautiful and insightful review!! I'm totally blown away!! One of the most amazing things about this story has been the reviewers...I'm honored just to have caught your attention! I would like to tell Ginny to hang in there myself (like you, I love her for the way her soul shines through...even when it's endangered--or especially when it is)...maybe even give her a hint at better things to come...but I suspect that if many of us knew as kids the happiness that was in store for us as adults, we wouldn't appreciate it anyway. It's amazing how our hopes and dreams evolve as we get older...possibly because of experience...it's a double-edged sword, but--like truth--not unwelcome. I think JK Rowling has done a wonderful job of showing how we change with our experiences in her books, and my personal opinion is it's something unique and very special to give children. I'm proud of her. I love hearing your thoughts...thanks for sharing! *hugs*  
  
*********************  
  
Blushing madly, Ron came up to her once or twice to say, "Malfoy's just a git, Gin, you shouldn't let him bother you this way." And Hermione kept shooting sympathetic glances at her when she thought Ginny wasn't watching. Ginny tried to be polite, but she hardly even noticed. At a loss for how to feel or what to think, she simply tried not to do either. She might have walked about in a shocked haze indefinitely, if it hadn't been for Ron's birthday.  
  
  
  
She didn't really want to be bothered...She had too many problems to care...But Ginny remembered Ron forgetting her birthday. She remembered how much it hurt, remembered how she had felt. She didn't want to inflict that on anyone, let alone Ron. She might have inflicted much worse...shame, disgust, horror in what she had done, and in whatever evil lurked in Tom Riddle's diary, but...she hadn't done so knowingly, and she wasn't going to start now.   
  
  
  
Through sheer force of will, Ginny bounced into the Common Room on March 1st, leaping at Ron as he got up with such enthusiasm he tumbled back into the couch. "Happy Birthday, Ron!"  
  
  
  
"Happy Bir--" Harry and Hermione both began, their voices drowned out by a short series of violent bangs that made everyone jump. Everyone except Ron, because he was still caught in Ginny's embrace. Fred and George had set off a series of Filibuster's Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks. The room was full of bright orange stars that nearly matched Ron's face. Ginny snickered, feeling almost human. The other Gryffindors laughed and applauded. Fred and George bowed and tossed showers of sweets-"easier than cake," they explained, and Ron didn't seem to mind the exchange.   
  
  
  
"Cheers, Mate," Dean offered, tossing him a Chudley Cannons postcard. "Seamus helped me pick it out."  
  
  
  
Neville offered him a little cloth pouch on a cord you could wear around your neck. It had a slip of paper covered in different letters tucked inside it, and was easily recognizable as one of the countless charms and amulets he'd been buying for protection. The gesture was incredibly generous, and Ginny was extremely proud of Ron when he didn't point out he wasn't on the list of the monster's preferred victims. If he hurt Neville's feelings, she wouldn't have been able to forgive him...besides, a little unneeded protection wasn't necessarily a bad thing.   
  
  
  
There was a thin little book of the entry-level jobs for wizards with the most promotion opportunity from Percy, a blindingly orange book entitled "Cannon History" from Hermione, a box of chocolate frogs from Harry-"Thought you might get Agrippa, mate."-and a package of dungbombs from the twins.   
  
  
  
Errol had fallen into the table that morning, tied to a large package from home. Ginny grabbed it while Ron was distracted with his latest rant about Malfoy and Snape, She pulled it out from her robes and tossed it in his lap. "I thought this was late!" Ron exclaimed. "I figured Mum was still sore about the car and wanted to make me squirm." He tore into it, and yelped with surprise as a large chunk of ripply black glass hit his foot. Ginny picked it up and hefted it curiously. There was a note from Charlie attached.   
  
"--Ron, ever wonder what happens to sand when its hit with dragon fire? Now you know. Best Wishes, C-" Ginny read aloud.   
  
  
  
"Cool," Fred said, lifting it out of her grasp.   
  
  
  
"No, hot," George said, taking it from him.   
  
  
  
Interested in the rest of his presents, Ron didn't even notice. Ginny grinned and shook her head.   
  
Bill sent a mummy's bandage, a long crumbly yellow-white strip that made Ginny want to shiver and a little scroll that explained some of its uses in Egypt. Dean and Seamus nearly knocked over the table in their haste to get a good look at it.  
  
  
  
They knew the bizarre toy that looked like a flat-sided ball tied to a string had to be from Dad, and Hermione was trying to explain it-something called a yo-yo-even before Harry found the note. Cupcakes thick with frosting and topped with jelly beans came along with an affectionate note from Mum that made Ron's ears burn red again, even though it wasn't read aloud.   
  
  
  
Ginny waited just long enough for Ron to decide that she didn't have a gift. He didn't say anything, but she could tell he was fighting disappointment. "Hey, Ron," she said as he started to console himself with a cupcake. "Aren't you going to open mine before you eat that?" She pointed at his pocket.  
  
  
  
Frowning bemusedly, Ron stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a round little package. George whistled and Fred wolf-called. Grinning, Ginny pretended to bow.   
  
  
  
"Snape! On a dartboard!" Ron looked as if he couldn't believe his luck.   
  
  
  
Ginny grinned and held one of the darts in front of Ron's nose. "Tarantallegra." He began to laugh.   
  
Ginny tossed it lightly at the board. "Ten points to Gryffindor" the board said in Snape's voice. Ginny helped herself to a cupcake amid a roar of Gryffindor laughter, and tried not to remember Tom's. 


	31. Taking Action

Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine.  
  
Author's Notes--  
  
To my marvelous reviewers with thanks! Hope you enjoy this.   
  
*******************************************  
  
Once she'd recovered from the shock of seeing Tom's diary again, it seemed obvious Ginny should simply do what Ginny did best-take it. When she wanted to steal socks, Ginny never had any trouble finding a time when the coast was clear, but suddenly the tower was always full of people discussing different magical subjects-the second years were trying to pick new classes. She watched and waited for days, and on Saturday, she finally saw her chance.   
  
She could hardly distinguish one beat of her heart from the next, it was pounding so fast, but she started out calmly and methodically nonetheless. She checked the drawers of the bedside tables, under the pillows of the beds. As she looked without finding any sign of the diary, her blood seemed to flow faster and faster until she could almost hear it hum through her, as if it were gaining energy so that she was about to take flight. The knowledge that someone could walk in and see her at any second should have worried her, but for some reason, it almost pleased her instead. She pulled the blankets back a little more adamantly than she had to, taking pleasure in controlled violence.   
  
She burrowed through trunks suddenly unheeding, the frustration and fear of the past few months welling up like a fountain until she found herself tossing things around the room at random, half-smiling at the destruction. When she first found the diary, it took her a moment to notice, she was so caught up in what she was doing. Then her fingers closed around it, and a strangled sound forced its way through her inexplicably tight throat, half fear, half disappointment, relief and homecoming...Ginny stood stock still for a moment, nearly panting. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, trying to regain her equilibrium.   
  
When she took socks, Ginny was careful to leave no sign. Originally, that had been her plan...but suddenly, she wanted to leave the destruction. It seemed...important. She felt an odd pride in it, in her power unseen, and in the way it mirrored her own mental condition.  
  
Smirking bitterly to herself, Ginny crept away with the diary.  
  
She'd only intended to take it...to protect Ron and Harry...and herself. But now she had it again...she kept looking at the plain, unassuming cover, wondering whether or not Harry had figured out how to work it, whether or not he'd spoken to Tom and what'd he'd said. She wondered what Tom had told him...what Tom thought about her throwing him away after he'd told her she was the reason he existed, if he'd missed her...felt abandoned...She wasn't even sure she'd acted justly, suspecting him of making her attack Hermione when it turned out Hermione was fine. Maybe she ought to explain...  
  
Ginny lay awake all night, debating with herself, tossing and turning. She was still staring at the inside of her eyelids, seeing the phantom of Tom's pale face, when the others began getting ready for breakfast. Ginny just lay there, not opening her dry and gritty eyes. She hadn't made a decision, at least not one of which she was consciously aware, but as the last of the footsteps died away, she pulled the diary out from beneath her pillow.   
  
She didn't have long before she was supposed to meet Lee, but that was good...she'd just write a few lines and stop before she had time to get drawn in.   
  
--Tom?-  
  
--Ginny? What a surprise.-  
  
--Look, Tom, I'm sorry I tried to get rid of you, but...--  
  
--What you do with me is your decision-  
  
--Is it? That's the problem...I can't quite get rid of this weird feeling you're deciding what to do with me.-- Ginny hesitated, her hand hovering over the page, but it was too late, the words were already written, the ink glistening.   
  
She could hear Tom's laughter echoing coldly and clearly through her head. -Don't be ridiculous, Ginny. I'm a diary.-  
  
Her limbs felt weighted, her head heavy. Ginny forced exhaustion away, tried to focus. -Did you talk to anyone else?-  
  
--As a matter of fact, I might have.-  
  
--Harry?-  
  
--The one and only. As a matter of fact, our conversation wasn't finished. Someone really ought to teach you not to interrupt.-  
  
It was as if someone held her arms and legs on the inside. They felt stiff, unresponsive. Fighting her inner captor as well as her fear, Ginny scrawled jerkily across the page. -What are you doing to me?-  
  
--Ginny, Ginny, why all the hostility? I'm simply doing a great service to the wizarding world...and your trust, energy, and support are helping me do it. You should be proud to be part of such a powerful-  
  
--I don't want to be part of anything! This is WRO- Ginny's quill dragged along the page, leaving an inky trail, and fell on the bed, ink blotting the coverlet, as she staggered, throwing her weight backward in a desperate attempt to return to the bed, out of the dorm.   
  
/No, Tom, don't-/She thought sluggishly, the thoughts moving slowly as if through water. She was vaguely aware of walking. A flash of red in the corner of her eye seemed as if it should mean something, but was strangely distant, like something from another life.../Please-I don't want to hurt anyone--/ Ginny reached out to grab the wall, to hold herself back. Her curled fingers struck the stone, dragging faintly in her progress. /Don't do this, Tom-don't make me do this-/  
  
His face stared back at her, calm and unyielding, from Myrtle's mirror. Ginny bit her lip, but in the mirror, she saw Tom's mouth move...and she felt her own form the words...Harsh, guttural hissing echoing hollowly from porcelain and stone. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't make the sound.../NO!!/  
  
The mirror swung away from her, but she could still see Tom's face, hanging there in space, staring her in the eye...She stood at the edge of deep and gaping space, and for one frozen instant, there was only her own helplessness in the sword-sharp gleam of Tom's gaze...  
  
Then soft scraping, a low, percussive beat, forming rhythm beneath a deep and guttural hiss. //Kill, Rip, Tear...So hungry...I smell blood...//  
  
Ginny tried to run to the door of the bathroom, to stop the snake, to force it back...but her feet were rooted as if she were standing in Devil's Snare. /I...won't...let...you...control me, Tom!/ Ginny thought angrily, and his face reeled back as if she'd struck him...The temporary waver of control gave her hope. She stepped forward, and fell to the ground. Determined to stop the snake, or at least warn anyone unluckily enough to find themselves in its path, Ginny reached out and began to drag herself along the damp and dirty stone...  
  
  
  
She reached the doorway of the bathroom to see the snake slithering to the end of the corridor. Screwing her face up in concentration, Ginny reached forward, curling her fingers into the gap between floor stones, and pulled herself forward. She could feel sweat breaking out across her upper lip.  
  
She stopped suddenly, listening...she thought she heard something...a dull and heavy thud...from around the corner... //Not dead...never dead...why don't they die? Rip...Tear...Kill!// She heard the snake wail in frustration.   
  
"No!!" Ginny screamed, wrenching herself to her feet. The snake shot out of sight. She wasn't aware of running down the hall, she was around the corner, Hermione and Percy's girlfriend Penelope at her feet. 


	32. So Distressed

Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. Professor McGonagall's speech in the Common Room is taken from CoS--no copyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made. Please don't sue, I have nothing.   
  
Author's Notes--WOW! I'm ecstatic--I never expected to see so many reviews in my inbox at once! *does happy dance* Thanks so much to everyone who let me know they enjoyed my story...I've worked hard and I love it, so it means a ton to know you do, too. :-D  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--Hope this was fast enough for you. ;-)  
  
SugarCoatedCandy--I'm glad you like the way the story is written. I've tried to make it a pleasurable read. The whole thing in one go is pretty dedicated...and a huge compliment, thanks! I'll try to keep writing...I hope you keep reading as well.:-D  
  
Nekuyr2004--Zimmeron's stories are a RIOT, and well-written to boot. I recommend them to anyone. I'm honored that the first HP fic you've read in a while happened to be my relatively obscure one (and even more honored I served up any inspiration, however small, for your own story--I'll have to check it out); I hope I made the experience enjoyable enough you'll be willing to read another. Thanks for the encouragement...I hope you keep reading. :-)  
  
PhoenixSong--I'm rather partial to Ginny myself. ;-) I'm glad you like the way I've tried to keep things in sync with CoS, because this is the same story...from a different perspective. It's DEFINITELY not JK's style--I would never kid myself I could match that--but I think maybe that's not a detriment to the story since the change in style gives Ginny her own separate identity, and that's the point. You made my week (at least) by telling me you feel like you found a treasure--thanks so much! I hope you continue to enjoy it!   
  
EEDOE--I was proud of Ginny, too (and I thought her b-day gift was genius *winks*). I agree with you about Tom influencing Ginny's reactions to her own behavior--nasty trick for a nasty git. I think maybe Ginny's description in OotP was meant to be a bit pat--not only does it fit with her trying to make things easier for Harry, not harder, but poor JK can't develop everything she wants--she just doesn't have space! I'm very touched you think I've helped fill in those unfortunate gaps and give Ginny a voice, I consider that a very high compliment indeed. I hope you enjoy what's coming next!*hugs*  
  
Bill--You deserve standing applause!! That is exactly one of the themes this story holds for me--love--Ginny's for others as well as theirs for her--is exactly what prevents Riddle from doing any lasting damage in my opinion. *beams* Like you, every time I read or re-read a Harry Potter novel, I am more convinced that one (if not the most central) message of the series is the "redemptive, transforming power of sacrificial love" (as well as the many forms that love can take), and my limited imagination can't conceive of an ending to the series that doesn't make use of that in some way. I like the parallel to Harry and Sirius... And,as usual, your observations about Ginny are dead on. *winks* I'm not sure there IS any higher praise than what you gave me at the end of your last review...just thinking about it gives me (very pleasant) chills. I will do what I can to live up to it--and I'll certainly never forget it! Thanks so much! *hugs*  
  
***************  
  
Ginny had no idea how long she stood, staring at Hermione and Penelope without seeing either one of them. Professor McGonagall found her there, shaking, her mouth hanging wordlessly open. Professor McGonagall's hands on her shoulders were surprisingly gentle. Ginny could feel them tremble. "My poor, dear girl," she murmured, and Ginny didn't think she imagined the quaver in her voice. Her face pressed against the rough tartan of the cloak Professor McGonagall wore to watch Quidditch. It should have been uncomfortable, but Ginny reveled in it. Professor McGonagall's grasp was a haven.   
  
"I am sorry," Professor McGonagall said softly. "Ginny, did you see-can you tell me--"  
  
Being expelled didn't matter. She didn't matter. Ginny knew that now...She should have told Dumbledore months ago. She tried to tell Professor McGonagall. She could feel Tom's fingers, long and narrow, burning icy paths across her face as they pressed over her mouth, could feel them wrapping like frigid iron bands about her throat...Still, she struggled to form words...until black and blue spots danced like deathly fireflies before her eyes...  
  
Professor McGonagall sighed. "No, I didn't think you could. There haven't been any witnesses all year--why should this time be any different." She patted Ginny's back absent-mindedly. "I'm sure whoever it was was long gone by the time you got here."  
  
They stood in silence, gathering strength. At length, Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, and straightened her back. "Ginny, do you think you could go and alert Madam Pomfrey?"  
  
"No need," a quiet voice said behind them. Ginny jumped.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall said, and Ginny could hear her relief.   
  
"I had hoped we'd seen the last of the Chamber of Secrets," Dumbledore said sadly. Was Ginny imaging it, or was he looking straight at her? "Minerva, I believe the Quidditch Match must be canceled. If you would be so kind as to go and instruct the students to return to their Common Rooms for further direction..."  
  
"Certainly," McGonagall said with a measure of her usual crispness.   
  
  
  
"Miss Weasley ...I'll have Madam Pomfrey send you something for the shock if you'll wait in the Gryffindor Common Room."  
  
  
  
Ginny nodded mutely.   
  
  
  
She went back to the Tower without complaint, drank the potion delivered by a house elf a few moments later without complaint, waited without complaint. Within a few minutes, the others began filing in, filling the room with the low continuous roar of their speculation.   
  
  
  
"Ginny!" Lee said in relief, sprawling across the arm of her chair. "Thank Merlin! When I heard there was another attack...I thought maybe you...I mean...since you hadn't shown up yet."  
  
  
  
Still mute, Ginny reached out and covered his broad dark hand with hers, tiny and impossibly pale, as they were joined by Fred and George. He seemed to understand. Percy bustled around the room trying-as usual-to impose order. He was-as usual-without success.   
  
  
  
Just as the fear, impatience, and suspense threatened to boil over into utter chaos, the portrait swung open to admit Professor McGonagall. She was flanked on either side by Harry and Ron. Harry's face was set, his eyes a trifle too wide, and Ron looked stunned and pale. They stepped hastily off to the side as Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. She unfurled a piece of parchment she held in her hand and began to read immediately.   
  
  
  
"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave their dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom without a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities." Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment, close to tears.   
  
  
  
"I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know something to come forward."   
  
  
  
/HOW!/ Ginny yearned toward her as she climbed out of the portrait hole. She would do anything to save Hogwarts, anything to stop the monster she had loosed, the monster she had become. /I can't...Tom won't let me.../  
  
  
  
But Ginny refused to accept that.   
  
  
  
/I'm not going to let Tom tell me what to do-he said himself, he's just a diary./  
  
  
  
Ginny got through the next several days muttering, "He's just a diary," under her breath like some sort of demented mantra. She half expected someone to ask about it, but no one did, possibly because they couldn't hear her in the noise of the common room. But, while the words afforded some comfort, they didn't do much good...she still couldn't figure out how she could tell what she knew.   
  
  
  
Not that it would have made much difference if she had. The school governors had removed Dumbledore, and Ginny wasn't sure what anyone else would be able to do about Tom even if they knew...  
  
  
  
All her life, she had wanted to go to Hogwarts, and she had managed to destroy it in less than a year...  
  
  
  
As if that wasn't enough...Hagrid had been arrested. He was in Azkaban being punished for something she had done...She wondered if there was any truth to the story he'd opened the Chamber once... if he'd been influenced by Tom...or just framed...  
  
  
  
Lockhart told them in class that Hagrid had been guilty. Most of the class eyed him warily, a few breathed sighs of relief. Ginny hit him with a curse when he wasn't looking. She hoped he had to go to Snape for help with the countercurse-she was sure Snape would take plenty of time. It wouldn't be enough, no matter how long he took. /Now, if I could just curse Tom.../ but part of her protested at the thought...  
  
  
  
Ginny sat in the Common Room, ostensibly watching Fred and George play Exploding Snap against Harry and Ron, trying to talk herself out of the urge to go upstairs and hide in bed with the diary, letting Tom soothe her fears...explain how she'd misjudged him...but she hadn't. She knew she hadn't...Tom was the reason Ginny was afraid. 


	33. Say Goodbye

Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. Breakfast in the Great Hall is taken from CoS--no copyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made. Please don't sue, I have nothing.   
  
Author's Notes--  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--Cheers! *waves*  
  
SugarCoatedCandy--I'm glad you liked that! I thought it was a vivid and chilling image to describe what was happening to her. It's great you're still reading, I hope you continue to do so.   
  
Nekuyr2004--I'm not sure what happened to Zimmeron...it's nice to have his stories back on FF.net, but I understand how much of an effect feeling unappreciated can have on inspiration, so I can see how he might not want to update. I'm glad you're still reading and that you liked the chapter--this story is drawing to a close in a few more installments, but I do have tenative plans for a sequel I hope you'll look into. Thanks for reviewing! :-)  
  
EEDOE--Ginny did what any self-respecting woman would have done. *winks* She's a role-model, that's why we love her. *smirks* I hope you enjoy what happens next. After all, you've been waiting a long time to see what happens...  
  
Bill--Thanks for the great suggestions--it's so nice you enjoy my story enough to want to expose it to a larger audience! :-D I actually did submit the first couple of chapters of this story to Gryffindor Tower (because I love several of their stories), was assigned a beta, and have never heard from her again...*makes face* As for the Sugar Quill, I've wanted to submit for a long time, but have to wait for their scheduled newbie submission time. There's one coming up soon, so maybe I'll try my luck. *grins and shrugs* Several chappies are also available on FictionAlley (which I recommend as an amazing fanfic site), but I'm not sure they'll post the whole thing as my grammar is less than flawless. *looks sheepish* I'm tickled you caught on to the deliberate parallel structures employed in the sentences...and took it to mean exactly what I was trying to get across...Ginny was stunned, weary, detached...in a bad state together. You're right about Percy not knowing about Penelope yet, too, and I would like to give him center stage for his reaction, but felt it was more in keeping with the story for Ginny to deliberately avoid him, knowing who and what Penelope was...I hope that doesn't detract too much from your reading enjoyment. As always, looking forward to your next review! *winks and hugs*  
  
******  
  
Just before exams, Professor McGonagall announced they would be able to revive everyone that night. Ginny had never been more relieved in her entire life...but she knew they wouldn't be able to tell Professor McGonagall the culprit...They might remember the snake, but none of them had ever seen her. At least, she didn't think so. Even if they had, none of them knew about Tom.   
  
  
  
Ginny didn't mind if one of the victims did give her away. In fact, she'd be relieved. But...there was always a chance it would happen again, to someone else, if she didn't tell someone about Tom...  
  
  
  
She had to do it right away, before she lost her nerve. Right away, while she was still determined to fight him, not to let him win...She couldn't bear the thought of walking up to the Head Table in front of everyone to confess to Professor McGonagall. Besides, she wasn't sure how much she'd be able to say...maybe if she told someone who had seen the diary, who knew what it did...they might be able to figure out what Tom wouldn't let her explain.  
  
Squeezing and pulling at her hands as if she could form a hold to keep Tom's control at bay long enough to confess, Ginny hurried over and sat down next to Ron.   
  
"What's up?" he asked, not really paying attention.  
  
Ginny craned around, not wanting anyone to overhear. That caught Ron's attention. "Spit it out," he said, watching her.   
  
Ginny rocked back and forth, trying to build up enough momentum for the words to fly out of her mouth unhindered. "I've got something to tell you," she said, and even though Harry was the one she most wanted to tell, she couldn't look him in the eye.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked, almost gently, so that Ginny wanted to cry.   
  
Ginny opened her mouth, but she could feel Tom's grasp, hovering just above her mouth, his fingers brushing her lips...  
  
Harry leaned forward, his expression encouraging. "Is it about the Chamber of Secrets?"   
  
Somewhere beyond her efforts and her embarrassment, Ginny felt a surge of satisfied pride...She'd known Harry would understand without words.   
  
"Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"  
  
Concentrating as hard as she could, remembering her progress down the hall after the snake, Ginny gathered words-  
  
"If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny," Percy interrupted, sounding too weary to be self-satisfied. "I'm starving. I've just come off patrol duty."  
  
Concentration shattered. Ginny couldn't have said anything to save her life...and in front of Percy, she didn't want to...he already treated her like an idiot, an embarrassment...Maybe she'd said enough...she'd just have to hope Harry could figure it out. He'd seen the diary. He'd talked to Tom.   
  
She was out of her seat before she'd finished the thought.   
  
She told herself she wanted to find out what Tom had said to Harry so she'd know how likely it was for him to figure it out...she wanted to know what Tom had said so she knew whether or not Harry would think she'd participated willingly...but when all was said and done, she might not have the chance to talk to Tom again...and she wanted to say goodbye.  
  
--It's over, Tom-  
  
--I don't think so. Not just yet.-  
  
--Harry's talked to you, Tom. He'll figure out you had something to do with it.-  
  
--Oh, I'm sure he will. I'm counting on it.-  
  
--You...want Harry to find out?- Chill inched a catepillar-like way up Ginny's spine.   
  
--Nice of you to help give him a little push since I didn't get to tell him as much as I would have liked, but you always were such a nice little girl.-  
  
--What did you tell him?-  
  
--Does it matter?-  
  
Ginny stared at the words for a long time.  
  
--No. As long as he knows, I guess it doesn't, but I want to know.-  
  
--Well...we all want things we can't have.-  
  
--Fine. The real reason I'm writing is I want to say-  
  
--Goodbye?-  
  
Ginny swallowed. Hard.   
  
  
  
--Will you miss me?-  
  
  
  
--Oh, you'll always be a part of me...In fact, you mean so much to me, I think you should write me something else.--  
  
Against her will, Ginny picked the lock on the supply cabinet. Against her will, she picked up the pail of blood red paint, and the paintbrush streaked from use. Against her will she carried them down the deserted corridor. Horrified, she watched her hand stroke gleaming words across the wall as if it belonged to someone else...And when she read them--HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER-she began to cry. /Stupid girl/, Tom's voice mocked her, /spilling your heart and soul out to a stranger. What did you expect?/  
  
  
  
Blinded by tears, she put the paint away and relocked the closet. Blinded by tears, she walked into Myrtle's bathroom, but they didn't block the sight of Tom's torturously perfect face as her voice grated roughly across her ears...and she opened the Chamber of Secrets once again.   
  
For once, no snake emerged. Ginny walked down a shadowy tunnel alone with nothing but a diary, but Tom was with her every step of the way. She sat in front of the great face of Salazaar Slytherin, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort and for warmth. She knew there was nothing left for her to do but wait to die. "Why?" she whispered hoarsely. "I thought you said you couldn't exist without me?"  
  
The diary slid from her hand, falling open on the floor. Of their own accord, the pages began to turn as if caught in a heavy wind. Light pulsed through them, dissolving parchment...and...in front of the light, almost invisible framed by glare, a stood a tall, sinuous boy with dark hair, a gorgeous face, and hard gray eyes. Tom.   
  
"I couldn't," he said.   
  
  
  
His lips touched hers once more, and there was only hissing blackness. 


	34. Recall

Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. Conversation between Harry and Riddle is taken from CoS--no opyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made. Please don't sue.   
  
Author's Notes--For artistic purposes, this scene deviates slightly from the one described in CoS as well as the one in the second Harry Potter movie, however they remain essentially the same as it is the same event being described...I like to think of it as differing accounts from eyewitnesses. ;-)  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--Sounds like I had you on the edge of your seat. I hope you enjoy the follow-up. ;-)  
  
Pauline--You have a good point, and one that I'll try to take into account...on the other hand, Stephen King says the same thing about JK Rowling, so I'm hesitant to edit the variety too far for the sake of continuity. I'll try to check you out on fictionpress, and I hope you keep reading. Thanks!  
  
EEDOE--I'm sad to know this will soon end myself :-( but I've been consoling myself with the prospect of the sequel...which wouldn't be the same without you reading!! It's great to know you liked the way I handled Ginny's descent into the Chamber. I hope you enjoy what happens next. *crosses fingers*  
  
Bill--Should I be worried your lack of things to say indicates disappointment in the last installment? I'm a bit disappointed in myself if that's the case. I agree the speed was shocking...rather like being stricken by a snake? For me, things accelerated the minute Ginny decided to write Tom Riddle after she retrieved the diary...after that, it seemed inevitable, a downward spiral, so to speak...so that's what I tried to portray.  
  
As you know, I've been debating whether or not I thought I had enough material and/or interest from myself and my readers to carry Ginny through all 5 years to date, or if I should just skip straight to OotP. I'm still not convinced either way, but I've got some ideas about PoA I really want to see on paper, so I hope to give Ginny's second year a try...including a bit about her summer--especially if you're interested in coming along for the journey. ;-) *Hugs*  
  
*********  
  
Warmth...Ginny felt it from the distance, tiny spots glowing above her like stars in the night...She had never before had stars touch her skin...she barely felt them at all, but, somehow, nothing had ever so completely captured her attention.  
  
  
  
The cold hard surface against her face fell away.   
  
  
  
The spots of warmth brushed across her skin, came to rest against her face...She could hear the stars murmuring from light years away, their voices faint but insistent in her ear... "Ginny." As if from a great distance away, Ginny felt a surge of deep, illuminating satisfaction. The stars knew her name.   
  
  
  
"Ginny." She had never imagined stars could sound so desperate, so pleading...especially because of her. She yearned to reach out to them, to comfort them, to make them happy as they made her...  
  
  
  
"Don't be dead," the words were a motion in the air, a ripple against her skin, a feeling in her stomach. "Please, Ginny...don't be dead."  
  
  
  
Awareness ebbed slightly inward.  
  
  
  
Tom.   
  
  
  
She understood-Tom couldn't exist without her...because he was going to exist instead of her.  
  
But...she wasn't dead.   
  
  
  
Not yet.   
  
  
  
"Ginny! Wake up!" The voice didn't belong to a distant star. It belonged to-Harry! Harry had called her back...  
  
  
  
"She won't wake." Tom said silkily.   
  
  
  
Harry's touch broke away from her skin, leaving her bereft. "Tom?" he said, incredulous. "Tom Riddle?"  
  
  
  
/Run/, Ginny thought, trying to warn him. /Run, Harry./   
  
  
  
She didn't hear Tom respond, but Harry had already moved on. "What'dya mean she won't wake? She's not-she's not--?" The emotion in his voice made her want to touch him, but she was both very far from her body, and buried deep inside it like the barest flickering ember. Motion was impossible.  
  
  
  
"She's still alive," Tom said, and Ginny could hear reflection in the words. "But only just."  
  
  
  
"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked, and Ginny suddenly realized he didn't know what he was facing. He didn't know what Tom was. He was in terrible danger. /Harry, it was him...the Heir of Slytherin...I tried to tell you.../  
  
  
  
"A memory," Tom said, and it was the most threatening word Ginny had ever heard. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."   
  
  
  
/A memory...of someone, something, so.../  
  
/A memory of power./  
  
  
  
"You've got to help me, Tom," Harry said, and Ginny felt his hands on her again, warm and strong, holding up her body, holding up her life. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk...I don't know where it is, but it could be along at any moment...Please help me."  
  
Ginny knew Tom just stood there, hands clasped loosely behind his back, cold gray eyes cutting through to Harry's soul. Ginny knew Tom.  
  
  
  
Harry's arms slid around her. Her head fell against his shoulder. She was safe, cherished and protected, in Harry's embrace. His heart beat against her chest, lending conviction to her own.   
  
  
  
"Hand me my wand."  
  
  
  
Ginny's heart gave an odd sideways jerk she hoped Harry could feel. If Tom had a wand...  
  
  
  
She could nearly see, as if she were hovering far above the scene...Harry, cuddling her to his chest as if to shield her from any threat-a sight that made her throat swell-his hand outstretched. Tom, his lipsquirked with some private joy or amusement Ginny understood all too well, watching them, twirling a wand-Harry's wand-in an unspoken threat uncomfortably like a promise.   
  
  
  
"Listen," Harry said urgently, and Ginny felt his knees begin to buckle. She hadn't realized she was so heavy. /Just leave me/, she thought at him, trying to make him understand. /It's too late for me, Harry. Just go while you still can...The basilisk...Don't make me responsible for your death too./  
  
  
  
"If the basilisk comes--" Harry said, and for a split second, Ginny thought she had gotten through to him.  
  
  
  
"It won't come until it's called," Tom said. Ginny knew...oh, how she knew...  
  
  
  
Harry laid her on the floor as gently as if it were a feather bed, and she a princess. "What'dya mean?" he asked. It sounded as if he were standing protectively above her, shielding her from threat. "Look, give me my wand. I might need it--"  
  
  
  
The way Tom's grin broadened was almost feral.  
  
  
  
"You won't be needing it," he said.  
  
  
  
"What'dya mean I won't be--"   
  
  
  
/Think, Harry!/ Ginny felt the sudden urge to slap some sense into him.   
  
  
  
Apparently, so did Tom.  
  
  
  
"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," he hissed, "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."  
  
  
  
Suddenly, Ginny was as lost as Harry had to feel. What did Harry have to do with Tom?  
  
  
  
"Look," Harry said impatiently, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later--"  
  
  
  
"We're going to talk now," Tom contradicted.   
  
  
  
"How did Ginny get like this?" Harry said slowly. If she could have, Ginny would have breathed a sigh of relief. /About time you started to catch on./  
  
"Well, that's an interesting question," Tom said as if discussing an unusual aspect of a lesson. "And quite a long story."  
  
  
  
/No it's not. It's simple, really. I'm like this because of you./  
  
  
  
"I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasly's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."  
  
  
  
To her surprise, it was an explanation Ginny agreed with.  
  
  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded.  
  
  
  
Ginny tried-and failed-to roll her eyes.  
  
  
  
"The diary," Tom said for her. "My diary." 


	35. What Comes First

Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. Conversation between Harry and Riddle is taken from CoS--no opyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made. Please don't sue.   
  
Author's Notes--For artistic purposes, this scene deviates slightly from the one described in CoS as well as the one in the second Harry Potter movie, however they remain essentially the same as it is the same event being described...I like to think of it as differing accounts from eyewitnesses. ;-)  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--Your enthusiasm always makes me smile. Hope this is to your liking. ;-)  
  
Nekuyr2004--Thanks. Glad you liked it. You have a point about 3 and 4, but I'm still tempted to see what I can do...Hope you keep reading and enjoy.  
  
EEDOE--What a wonderful review! :-) I totally agree with you...Gotta love the firecracker...and the fufillment of her romantic dreams! *winks* Hope you approve of the next part as much. *hugs*  
  
Bill--No need for apologies! I'm just relieved not to disappoint YOU after you've invested so much in this story! ;-D I'm not completely confident I can do justice to Ginny's second and third years, but I'm very confident in my desire to try...although that confidence would really suffer if I didn't think you (and hopefully the others as well) would keep me company on the quest. Great point about the parallel between Ginny and Harry...I hadn't even consciously thought of that!   
  
I totally agree with you about Ginny...no one will ever be able to top the gesture Harry made--and he wasn't even TRYING to be romantic! I like that she can be head over heels lost to him, and still be ready to tell it like it is. (I love how you described Harry--dead on!) *grins* To me, that's an added security of solid love...knowing that little flaws can't shake how incredible it really is.  
  
As for the title...*grins* The answer is...yes and no. The title was directly at the center of how I developed this story. I love it because it can be read in more ways than one--Tom is a powerful memory, Tom's diary is the record of power gone, this experience is likely to be a memory that affects Ginny strongly in the future...but I didn't realize when I chose it that the title would actually make an appearance in the text. The opportunity presented itself somewhat unexpectedly, and I HAD to take it! *winks*  
  
Looking forward to hearing what you think about the next installment. *hugs*  
  
********************  
  
Ginny listened to Tom's recitation of their history feeling strangely detached. It didn't matter any more-what was done was done-all that mattered was saving Harry.   
  
  
  
Harry, on the other hand, seemed to have completely forgotten leaving the Chamber. He was standing over her, so rigid with anger she could feel it pulsing through the floor. She could almost feel his fingers clenching and unclenching as if they were her own, the nails biting into her palms...  
  
  
  
"Ginny told me all about you, Harry," Tom hissed. "Your whole fascinating history." He was eyeing the scar on Harry's forehead as it were a revelation... "I knew I must find out about you, talk to you, meet you if I could."  
  
  
  
Ginny didn't know why, but she knew it must be important if Tom wanted it so badly...and she knew it must not be good.../Leave now, Harry. Don't let him have what he wants./  
  
  
  
"I decided to show you my capture of that great oaf Hagrid, to gain your trust--"  
  
  
  
/I knew it! Harry, he framed Hagrid!/  
  
  
  
"Hagrid's my friend," Harry said, his voice smoldering. "And you framed him, didn't you? I thought you made a mistake, but--"  
  
  
  
Tom laughed, a sound like ice pouring down her back. Ginny wasn't sure whether the resolution was Harry's, or belonged to her...all she knew was that somehow, someway, Tom Riddle wasn't going to get away with what he had done to Hagrid...and she wasn't going to be some girl he used and never thought of again.  
  
  
  
"I have many questions for you, Harry Potter," Tom was saying, oblivious.   
  
  
  
"Like what?" Harry snarled.   
  
  
  
"Well, how is it that you-a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent-managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing more than a scar while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"  
  
  
  
"Why do you care how I escaped?" Harry said slowly. "Voldemort was after your time..."  
  
  
  
"Voldemort," Tom said the name like a caress, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."  
  
  
  
Ginny knew. Before he pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to burn letters in the air, hanging over her like a curse, she knew exactly what he meant. It made such perfect, clean, simple sense...  
  
  
  
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE.  
  
  
  
And the letters moved, as if by fate, falling neatly into place...  
  
  
  
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.  
  
  
  
He had been rearranging words like that all year, writing back to her.../If I could move, I'd kick myself for being so stupid. What was I thinking? Voldemort is coming back to life because of me.../  
  
  
  
"Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school," Harry was all but shouting, "and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days--"  
  
  
  
"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me," Tom spat venomously.   
  
  
  
"He's not as gone as you might think!" Something about the words gave her hope.   
  
  
  
Music filled the Chamber, haunting and unearthly. It had to herald a miracle.   
  
  
  
A crimson bird swooped over them, a flash of flaming feathers cutting through the smoke left behind Tom's letters. The bird dropped a ragged bundle between them at Harry's feet with a soft flop, and perched on his shoulder. Ginny could feel its presence glow through him, and didn't think to wonder how.  
  
  
  
"That's a phoenix," Tom said.  
  
  
  
"Fawkes?" Harry knew the bird.   
  
  
  
"And that is the old school Sorting Hat," Tom added, giving name to the ragged bundle. He began to laugh, but Ginny felt strangely unafraid.   
  
  
  
She wasn't surprised when Harry began to pick a fight. /That's my Harry/, she thought affectionately, ready for Voldemort's defeat, or to die together, whichever came first.   
  
"You're a wreck," Harry said flatly. "You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you."  
  
It was true.  
  
Harry knew it.   
  
Ginny knew it.  
  
And Tom Riddle knew it.  
  
And called it a lucky chance. Fool.  
  
Slytherin's stone mouth began to open.  
  
"Kill him."  
  
The basilisk scraped upward, and Ginny was motionless, trapped within herself, unable to help. Fawkes did what she couldn't, diving at the great snake's eyes, stabbing them with his deadly beak, spattering blood across the floor.  
  
"THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM," Tom shouted, his determination to destroy Harry putting the lie to his dismissal of the threat Harry presented to him.  
  
The blinded snake swayed, lurching hesitantly toward Harry. "Help me, help me-someone, anyone," Harry muttered, falling reluctantly away from Ginny. She wanted to help, but all she could do was watch...The basilisk's tale caught the edge of the Sorting Hat next to her, thrusting it into Harry's arms.  
  
Harry, trusting to fate, yanked it over his head. She felt something slam into the top of his head as if it were her own... Tom moved toward him as if to show the basilisk the way. "KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD-THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU!" Tossing the Hat aside, Harry whirled to face them, a naked sword gleaming moon-bright in his hand. 


	36. Only a Memory

Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. Conversation between Harry and Ginny is modeled on the CoS movie script--no copyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made. Please don't sue.   
  
Author's Notes--For artistic purposes, this scene deviates slightly from the one described in CoS as well as the one in the second Harry Potter movie, however they remain essentially the same as it is the same event being described...I like to think of it as differing accounts from eyewitnesses. ;-)  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--I'd have gotten this to you a lot sooner, but I couldn't find Fanfiction.Net! I was going nuts! Anyway...hope it was worth the wait, and thanks for your continued enthusiasm! :-D  
  
EEDOE--Wow...I'm breathless in the wake of such undeserved praise. Without your support and encouragement, this story probably would have been stillborn. Hope this is worthy of your faith in me, and that you continue to accompany me in the future! *hugs and more hugs*  
  
Bill--I'm glad you agree with me about Ginny's involvement making the story more interesting. You make a great point about her feelings for Harry, and one that's probably close on target...if she hadn't loved him, he'd never have been able to rouse her, after all...like any good fairy tale...;-) It's so funny you should suggest Ginny's further influence...you're right, the next installment was pretty much finished all ready, but...*grins and winks* I like the way you think. Ginny's feelings have evolved a lot in the last two chapters...near death experiences mature you pretty fast--but she's rising to meet the challenge with surprising fortitude. I'm proud of her...and a little amazed, too! As I said to EEDOE, this story has been a fantastic journey that probably wouldn't have evolved if it hadn't been for your company. I hope you enjoy the destination as we draw close, and continue on the journey in the future! *hugs, hugs, hugs!*  
  
*******************  
  
The basilisk lunged blindly, its forked tongue lashing Harry's side. Harry swung wildly at the serpent, the blade bouncing off the snake's nose, clanging against the stone pillars. Ginny longed to help him with the weight of the sword. She gathered whatever energy she could, whatever energy Tom had left her, and directed it toward Harry with all her heart...  
  
The basilisk struck again. Harry danced out of the way, swinging aimlessly, and the basilisk hit the pillars and fell back.   
  
Regaining its balance, the basilisk struck for the third time. This time its aim was true...and so was Harry's. Throwing all his weight behind the blade, Harry lunged, burying the sword in the basilisk's mouth. Ginny felt a flickering spark of triumph...but suddenly her arm seared with pain... a long, glistening fang protruded from Harry's...the basilisk thundered against the floor and lay with final stillness.  
  
There was nothing left to hold Harry up, Ginny knew. He fell, using the wall behind him to guide his progress to the floor. She wanted to run to his side...staying motionless on the floor was killing her...much more so than Tom Riddle...  
  
As if moved by her thoughts, Harry inched toward her, painfully slow, his good hand wrapped around the penetrating tooth. Pain swirled between them like a cloud, obscuring and clarifying things by turns. His hand on her shoulder was like coming home. They would die, then. Together.   
  
Footsteps echoed as Tom approached them. "I'm going to sit here and watch you die, while I live, Harry Potter," Tom said in triumph. Harry pulled the fang from his arm, dropping it on the floor with a dull clatter.   
  
Everything seemed to be spinning, a whirl of color so fast it barely seemed like moving...  
  
With one high, clear note that seemed to vibrate through time, Fawkes soared overhead, dropping something into Harry's lap. A small, nondescript little book Ginny had nearly forgotten. Tom Riddle's diary. For a split second, time stood still.   
  
Harry moved, but Ginny could have sworn she moved as well...that her fingers closed over his on the basilisk fang, that her arm moved with his, that her strength joined his in driving it as deep as she could into the heart of the diary. Into Tom.   
  
His scream welled through her in intense satisfaction, dissolving invisible bonds that held her tied.   
  
Ink spurted, dark arterial blood, christening their joined hands, setting the Chamber floor awash. They wrenched the fang upward and struck again as Tom writhed...light seemed to be eating through him like some inexplicable acid, wearing gaps...the gaps widened and began to touch...and suddenly Tom expanded in a great, bursting cloud of light...sparks fell to the floor. Ginny could feel the light flooding through her as if dawn was breaking into day...  
  
She felt as if she had been beaten, stiff and sore. Ignoring her own soft moan, Ginny wrenched herself upward and reached out to touch Harry's arm. "It's all right," Harry said encouragingly, his voice unsteady. "You're safe now, Ginny. Riddle's finished."  
  
"I didn't want to, Harry," Ginny said miserably. "Tom...he made me...I swear I didn't mean to."  
  
"I know," Harry soothed. "He told me-Riddle told me. Ginny, you have to get out of here."  
  
"You're hurt!" Ginny exclaimed, indignant he would even suggest she leave him behind.../So I suggested the same thing/, she scolded the sardonic voice in her head. /That was different./  
  
Harry pulled slightly away, trying to shrug as if indifferent, but Ginny knew better. She had felt that pain...Harry was dying. And it was her fault. She forced away useless tears and tried to think of something to do.  
  
Fawkes the phoenix had landed beside them. "Fawkes," Harry said softly, "you were fantastic." Fawkes laid his head tenderly on Harry's arm where the basilisk had bitten him. "Fawkes," Harry said again, and the word held so much meaning.   
  
Ginny made a strangled noise that might have been a gasp...or sob. Fawkes, too, was weeping. She reached out as if to stroke the glossy red feathers, as if to comfort this strange hero she'd never seen...  
  
A patch of thick, shining tears washed the wound clean...it didn't look so bad when it wasn't bloody...small, almost harmless really...Ginny blinked and sat up straight. Either it was her imagination or Harry's wound was shrinking...  
  
  
  
"Phoenix tears..." Harry said, as if remembering, "have healing powers."  
  
  
  
Tears began to pour down her face, and Ginny let them as she caught her breath, scarcely daring to believe...  
  
  
  
"Thanks, Fawkes," Harry said, as if similar things happened every day. Then again, with Harry, maybe they did.  
  
  
  
"Ginny," Harry said again, looking her in the eye. She found herself thinking of the meadow on a sunny spring day, and wrenched her thoughts back to reality. "You're okay."  
  
  
  
/You're okay/, Ginny wanted to say, but she could only mouth the words, trapped in her own overwhelming relief.   
  
  
  
"It's a memory," Harry said, putting his arms around her and patting her back, a little awkwardly. "It's only a memory."  
  
  
  
/It always was/, Ginny thought darkly as she leaned into his embrace. But Harry was right. Tom couldn't hurt her now. She was safe. Just the thought made her bury her face in Harry's neck. 


	37. Return Secrets

Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. Conversation between Harry, Lockhart, and Ron is from CoS--no copyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made. Please don't sue.   
  
Author's Notes--For artistic purposes, this scene deviates slightly from the one described in CoS as well as the one in the second Harry Potter movie, however they remain essentially the same as it is the same event being described...I like to think of it as differing accounts from eyewitnesses. ;-)  
  
For those of you who are wondering, this story will be concluding with chapter 40. However, I do intend to try my hand at Prisoner of Azkaban, Ginny style, and intend to post the first chapter of this story--"Ginny Weasley and the Specter of Atonement"--at the same time as the conclusion of this story. Please read it and let me know what you think!  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--I'm just happy to have FF.net back up and running again...and that the problem wasn't on my end! Here's the next installment. ;-)  
  
ShadowRomantic--Thanks so much!! That really means a lot to me! :-D I'll try to keep it up.  
  
EEDOE--*grins* You're right...I'll try to accept your praise with better confidence and grace. *winks* I'm glad you think I hit the mark the last time...somehow the scene just felt right to me. Ooh...a sequel to "Vanilla Whispers" would be awesome! I was hoping you would write one. Let me know when you post.! *hugs*  
  
Bill--I was bouncing off the walls with crazy energy...do you think that's the sign of an unhealthy addiction? You are so completely on my wavelength--I'm amazed! *snickers* JK, of course, must be allowed to reign supreme, but I was actually quite impressed with the film rendition of the final scene, which I felt in some respects delivered the message more powerfully. Tom Riddle was one of those for me as well...missing Fawke's key skill did seem awfully messy of him. Another was definitely Harry's reaction to sharing a life-altering experience with Ginny...something he doesn't seem to quite register in the book. (But sometimes it does take a while.) You raise an interesting point about the title (as well as where to go from here), and its chameleon ability to be read several different ways is one of the reasons I love it...I definitely think all those readings should be allowed to apply in some capacity. Ginny's memory is certainly going to linger, and would easily allow many years to be tied together with a common thread. However, in keeping with the traditional HP format (and for the sake of reader convenience) I intend to treat each year as a story...if we run into to trouble with lack of material or interest later, maybe I'll reformat. After all, art is never static. *grins and winks* Anyway...I can't wait to read what you have to say next! ;-D *hugs*  
  
************************  
  
They sat gathering strength from each other for a while, neither of them was really sure how long, before Harry pulled himself to his feet and held out his hands to Ginny. "C'mon," he said gruffly, "let's get out of here."  
  
  
  
"Do we have to? Ginny moaned. "I'm going to be expelled!"  
  
  
  
Harry grimaced sympathetically, but he didn't stop walking down the corridor. He didn't let go of her hand, either. Ginny sighed and trudged after him. She knew she deserved it and she shouldn't be complaining...at least the school was safe...Thanks to Harry.  
  
  
  
Something up ahead was making a bumping sound. Ginny hesitated, wondering if there was something in the Chamber they would have to deal with, but Harry sped up. "Ron! Ginny's okay! I've got her!"  
  
  
  
Someone up ahead gave a strangled cheer. Ron.   
  
  
  
Ginny didn't know whether she wanted to speed up or slow down. She couldn't wait to see her brother, but she didn't know how she was ever going to be able to face him. She didn't have time to decide. They came around a bend in the tunnel to see his face staring out at them from a hole in the wall twice the size of a quaffle.   
  
  
  
"Ginny!" Ron thrust his arm through the hole and pulled her through. He didn't let go when her feet touched the floor, either, pulling her against him and holding her there in a steel-banded grip until she thought she might suffocate. Not that she really would have cared. "You're alive! I don't believe it!"  
  
  
  
Ginny subsided gratefully into the corner as Ron stared at Fawkes."How-what-where did that bird come from?" Harry scrabbled awkwardly through the gap, as Ron was too distracted to offer his help. Ron turned back to say something to him, and stared. "How come you've got a sword?" He asked, his eyes reflecting the moonshine gleam hidden in the garnet sheath of blood. The hilt flashed, rubies throwing sparks of light. Ginny hadn't noticed them before.   
  
  
  
She didn't really pay attention to them now. Harry was going to tell Ron everything...and then he'd wish she had been dead after all...Harry glanced at her, his eyes catching hers in a way that startled her. "I'll explain when we get out of here," he said shortly.   
  
  
  
"But--"  
  
  
  
"Later," Harry repeated, and Ginny felt a trickle of gratitude at him for postponing her fate. Again.   
  
  
  
/My hero/, she thought, not entirely without sarcasm, but entirely with pleasure.   
  
  
  
"Where's Lockhart?" Harry asked.   
  
  
  
Ginny blinked. What did Lockhart have to do with anything?  
  
  
  
"Back there," Ron said, looking as bemused as Ginny felt. "He's in a bad way. Come and see."  
  
  
  
Lockhart was sitting at the very entrance of the pipe, humming.   
  
  
  
"His memory's gone," Ron said cheerfully. "The Memory Charm backfired-hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are." Ginny nearly asked how that was different from normal, but couldn't through her tears. "I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself."  
  
  
  
Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all. "Hello, odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"  
  
  
  
Ginny shuddered at the thought. Beside her, Harry bent to peer up the pipe into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "Have you thought about how we're going to get back up this?"  
  
  
  
Ron shook his head, but Fawkes hovered in front of Harry, ruffling his long, bright feathers.   
  
  
  
"He looks like he wants you to grab hold," Ron said in confusion. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there."  
  
  
  
Ginny sincerely believed there wasn't anything that particular bird couldn't do. Harry must have felt the same, because he shook his head. "Fawkes isn't an ordinary bird. We've got to hold on to each other. Ron, grab my hand. Professor Lockhart--"  
  
  
  
"He means you," Ron said sharply to the still-humming professor.  
  
  
  
"You hold Ron's other hand and grab Fawkes' feathers."  
  
  
  
Harry reached out to Ginny, wrapping an arm snuggly around her waist. He lowered his chin, looking down into her eyes as if searching for something. "Ready?"  
  
  
  
She swallowed hard, and nodded. Hesitating, she threaded her arms around his neck. Harry didn't pull away. Instead, he nodded encouragingly. "Okay, Fawkes," he said, "let's go home."  
  
  
  
An incredible lightness seemed to spread through them, and suddenly, they were flying."Amazing," Lockhart shouted above them, "Amazing! This is just like magic!"   
  
  
  
Ginny choked on a laugh.   
  
  
  
Fawkes sat them down gently on the damp floor of Myrtle's bathroom. Ginny couldn't bring herself to look, but behind them, she could hear the sinks grind shut. Myrtle was goggling at them, the door of her stall ajar. "You're alive."  
  
  
  
"There's no need to sound so disappointed," Harry said grimly, trying to clean his glasses on his equally grimy robes.   
  
  
  
"Oh, well, I'd just been thinking. If you'd died, you would have been welcome to share my toilet," Myrtle crooned, blushing silver.   
  
  
  
Whatever else she thought of her, Ginny had to admit Myrtle had good taste. Unfortunately...she also had a point. Harry could have died...  
  
  
  
"Urgh," said Ron, apparently unaffected by such thoughts, "Harry, I think Myrtle's grown fond of you!" You've got competition, Ginny!"  
  
  
  
Ginny tried not to choke on her indrawn breath.   
  
Myrtle wasn't competition...there was no hope Harry would ever see her as anything but a foolish little girl now...she'd nearly destroyed the school she'd waited her whole life to come, she'd nearly gotten him killed...all because her diary told her to...  
  
  
  
Ron was looking at her intently. He seemed to have gone slightly pale. Ginny tried to smile at him, but it only aggravated her tears. "Where now?" Ron asked anxiously.  
  
  
  
Harry pointed in Fawkes' soft-glowing wake.   
  
  
  
A moment later, they knocked on the door of Professor McGonagall's office and slipped inside. 


	38. Effortless Confession

Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. Conversation is from CoS--no copyright infrigement is intended by this, and no money is being made. Please don't sue.   
  
Author's Notes--For those of you who are wondering, this story will be concluding with chapter 40. However, I do intend to try my hand at Prisoner of Azkaban, Ginny style, and intend to post the first chapter of this story--"Ginny Weasley and the Specter of Atonement"--at the same time as the conclusion of this story. Please read it and let me know what you think!  
  
EEDOE--I'm a big fan of that scene between Ron and Hermione myself...I agree it's a great picture of pre-teen attraction. ;-) And I definitely liked seeing Harry carrying Ginny from the Chamber...much more emotional impact that way! I'm glad you thought Ginny's /My hero/ line was romantic--only our Ginny could use sarcasm as a declaration of love! *winks* I felt for her, too--and I'm definitely NOT giving up hope! I was so proud of Ron...he actually realized how important Ginny was for a moment, and let her be the center of attention without shame. He's a great brother, even if he can be a prat. ;-) I think Ginny always believes deep down that he is exactly as you described...smart girl. I think you'll like how this installment ends. *winks*  
  
Bill--I wasn't disturbed at all by you mentioning Ruskbyte...there's a reason why his two biggest stories have more than a millenium of reviews apiece. He's got great timing, fascinating plots, and a quirky sense of humor...and I'm proud to be on any list that includes him. :-D I actually hadn't realized he had other stories besides "Order of the Phoenix" and "Well of Shadows", but when you clued me in, I went and read "Riddle of the Diary" immediately...and, naturally, loved it. If only Harry were that self-aware...*grins and winks* I agree with you about the movies, and about Harry--he SHOULD have paid more attention to her in the other books, but sometimes boys that age don't notice the forest for the trees, and I do have to agree with JK that the uncertainty of whether or not he'll notice her probably does add to the interest of the books. Still...If Ginny's anything like I suspect, she'll more than make him writhe when he catches up. *snickers* I think you're dead on target about the contact, too...it was far more about assuring themselves they were alive and together than anything else...that they thought of, anyway...though I think some faint stirrings might have occurred in that last embrace...and now...*winks*  
  
******************  
  
Mum was sitting before the fire. Ginny was shaken to see her cry. Dad's hand was white-knuckled over hers, his face gray.   
  
  
  
"Ginny!" Mum's scream shook the entire room. She threw herself over Ginny, making her rock backward. Dad fell on top of them, cutting off any and all hope of air...but it probably wasn't such a bad way to go.   
  
  
  
The air seemed cold against her skin as they finally let her go. Mum captured Harry and Ron together in a very similar-looking hug. Dad stayed where he was, his hand on Ginny's shoulder. Professor Dumbledore was watching them; he looked as if someone had lit his face like a birthday cake. Professor McGonagall was actually smiling in between deep breaths, her hand still resting on her chest. Ginny hoped she didn't have to add giving her Head of House a heart attack to her list of ill deeds. She also wished-more fervently than fruitlessly-she didn't have to disappoint them when they were so happy.  
  
  
  
"You saved her!" Mum was exclaiming rapturously to Harry and Ron. "How did you do it?"  
  
  
  
"I think we'd all like to know that," Professor McGonagall seconded faintly.  
  
  
  
Mum released Harry, who walked over and laid the sword, the Sorting Hat, and the ruins of Tom's diary on the desk, very carefully. Pacing slowly, as if it helped him think, Harry began to speak...He told a story Ginny had never heard before at first, a story of a disembodied voice whose source he didn't comprehend, a story of Hermione's brilliant deduction the voice belonged to a basilisk in the pipes, a story of a midnight trek into the Forbidden Forest to speak to a giant spider-Ginny saw Ron shudder, and she didn't blame him-a story about Moaning Myrtle, Tom's first, and only, victim.../Maybe I owe her an apology/, Ginny thought with a pang of conscience.   
  
The others seemed fascinated by what Harry was telling them. Ginny was fascinated too, but by him. He acted as if he encountered such things all the time...as if he never doubted his ability to handle them. She remembered the feel of his arms around her as Fawkes carried them from the Chamber just listening to him. She suspected she'd never forget it.   
  
"Very well," Professor McGonagall said, sounding a bit more like herself. "You found out where the entrance was-breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add-but how on earth did you get out of there alive, Potter?"  
  
Ginny felt a tremor of fear. Surely they wouldn't expel Harry and Ron for saving her?   
  
With an expression that reminded her of a shrug, Harry continued his narration, telling of Fawkes and the sword. Apparently he wasn't concerned about whether or not they expelled him...but Ginny knew he'd be crushed if he wasn't allowed to come back to the school...She rested her head against Mum's shoulder, and her shoulders against Dad, closed her eyes and tried not to think.   
  
Harry hadn't mentioned her at all. He stopped suddenly, and Ginny knew he didn't want to. She knew he was thinking about what she had said, trying to protect her from the same thing she feared for him. She thought her heart would burst...it meant so much...Harry taking care of her...but there was no help for it. She wouldn't be able to prove it wasn't on purpose, the diary had been destroyed, but even if it hadn't been, she had written in it, and she was responsible for what she had done... She had done it, and she had known for months she had to confess. Ginny opened her mouth to do so at last and spare Harry the guilt.  
  
"What interests me most," Dumbledore intervened, his tone gentle, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."  
  
Harry looked as relieved as Ginny felt.   
  
"W-what's that?" Dad gasped behind her. "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not...Ginny hasn't been...has she?"  
  
"It was this diary," Harry interjected quickly, drawing attention away from her. He handed the charred remains to Dumbledore. "Riddle wrote in it when he was sixteen..."  
  
Dumbledore stared closely at the burnt and soggy pages. "Brilliant," he said quietly. "Of course, he was probably one of the most brilliant students Hogwarts has ever seen." No surprise. At least not to anyone who had talked to him.   
  
Mum and Dad hadn't.  
  
"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle," Dumbledore explained for their benefit-and Ron's as well. "I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving school...Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."   
  
"But, Ginny," Mum said, her fingers tightening painfully around Ginny's arm. "What's our Ginny got to do with-with-him?"  
  
"His d-diary," Ginny repeated, sobbing in spite of her determination not to. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been writing back all year--"  
  
"Ginny!" Dad reproved. His shocked disappointment was worse than being expelled. "Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic--"  
  
If he'd said the words once, he'd said them a hundred times, but until he said them now, Ginny had never once connected them to Tom Riddle's diary. She frowned a little, trying to figure out how she could have failed to see something so obvious...at first she hadn't thought the diary had thought for itself. She thought it was just a very clever publishing trick. She hadn't shown the diary to Mum and Dad, because she thought it must be valuable and they'd tell her she had to give it back... And after she started talking to him, Tom had been-as he himself had said-so charming, it had never occurred to her to ask herself if he might also be somewhat dangerous. /I really am a burning imbecile./ Ginny sniffled.   
  
"I d-didn't know," she said inadequately. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it there and forgotten about it--"  
  
"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore interrupted. Ginny had the feeling he was trying to deflect the lecture that was coming. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over and opened the door himself, his eyes twinkling warmly down at her. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up." Hot chocolate had always cheered her up, too. Ginny smiled at him tremulously. He seemed to understand. "You will find," he added conspiratorially, "Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice-I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up at any moment." He couldn't have given Ginny a better gift. As she looked into his eye, Ginny hoped he knew it.   
  
"So Hermione's okay!" Ron said, looking considerably happier.   
  
"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny," Dumbledore assured her.   
  
Mum, her grip still a bit tight, half-pulled Ginny from the room. The last thing Ginny saw was Harry's reassuring half-smile over her shoulder. 


	39. Another Victim

Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. No copyright infrigement is intended, and no money is being made. Please don't sue.   
  
Author's Notes--For those of you who are wondering, this story will be concluding with chapter 40. However, I do intend to try my hand at Prisoner of Azkaban, Ginny style, and intend to post the first chapter of the story--"Ginny Weasley and the Specter of Atonement"--at the same time as the conclusion of this story. Please read it and let me know what you think!  
  
Strawberries and Blueberries--The end approaches...the second-to-last update. *sighs* Enjoy. :-)  
  
EEDOE--I wonder what Ginny would make of it if she knew where Ron had gone "for Hermione". *winks* Harry may be more interested in Ginny than he even realizes...after all, he does have a lot on his mind before and after their moment in the Chamber, and guys that age don't really examine their feelings (generalization, of course, there are exceptions). Someday he's going to be hit with a very big surprise...and, knowing Ginny, it will flamboyant. *winks* Until next time! *hugs*  
  
Bill--I'm glad you liked my interpretation of events...Ginny is beyond smitten--I think she has it so badly she doesn't even know how to handle it, and I don't blame her a bit! I;m just not sure why Harry didn't feel the same attraction, just a little bit. Boys *grins and rolls eyes* Your story sounds like a great idea! If you decide to do it, you have one reader already--I'm sure you would handle it insightfully. You're very good--you already know what's about to happen! I hope that doesn't mean you'll enjoy it any less. Just hearing you're excited about the second story has me bouncing with anticipation. *winks*   
  
****************  
  
Mum and Dad accompanied her to the infirmary. Actually, Mum dragged her along so energetically, Ginny was a little worried Madam Pomfrey would have to put her shoulder back in the socket by the time they got there, while Dad trailed behind them in a daze. Stunned by his only daughter's near-fatal disregard for his vigilance, Dad was incapable of speech. Unfortunately, the affect didn't extend to Mum. She waited in silence as Ginny got changed into the pajamas provided-along with a constant stream of muttered marvels over her safe return from the Chamber Ginny tried to ignore-by Madam Pomfrey, crawled into bed, and drank several mugs of hot cocoa-more than one of which were more to prone the inevitable than because she wanted them-but Ginny could feel words simmering beneath the surface, building up like pressure in a pot left to long to boil.   
  
As soon as Madam Pomfrey excused herself to continue ladling out Mandrake Juice, the pot exploded. "VIRGINIA EILEEN WEASLEY! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? KEEPING A DIARY THAT TALKED TO YOU WITHOUT CONSULTING YOUR FATHER OR ME? HOW MANY TIMES HAVE WE TOLD YOU--" Mum seemed to realize, either from the look on Ginny's face, or Dad's awkward clearing of his throat beside her that Dad had already covered this point, because she continued without finishing the sentence, "SOMEONE COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED-DID YOU WANT TO LIVE WITH THAT ON YOUR CONSCIENCE? EVEN IF YOU DID, DO YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED TO YOUR FATHER AT WORK IF WORD GOT OUT? HIS MUGGLE PROTECTION BILL WOULD BE RUINED-HE COULD LOSE HIS JOB-BUT YOU NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT, YOU ONLY THOUGHT OF YOURSELF--" Mum's voice was so loud the rafters were rattling. At least, Ginny thought they were-She couldn't actually hear them. And she didn't really care.   
  
She stared at Dad, horrified. All year, she'd been worrying about what would happen when someone found out the person responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets was her...but she'd never thought about what it could do to Dad...he'd worked so hard on his bill...he loved muggles so much...he'd be heartbroken if he couldn't explore their world a little everyday. Stricken, Ginny stared up into the worn blue eyes she loved so much and wondered how he would ever be able to forgive her...  
  
  
  
She hardly heard Mum still roaring in the background "-YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED-YOU NEARLY WERE KILLED-DID YOU EVER THINK HOW THAT WOULD MAKE US FEEL? BUT WHY SHOULD WE MATTER? WE'RE ONLY YOUR PARENTS!" The tirade came to an end as explosively as it had begun-Mum burst into hysterical tears, hugging her so tightly she began to suffocate.  
  
  
  
Dad reached over and unobtrusively loosened her grip.   
  
  
  
Ginny wanted to say something, but she didn't know what to say.   
  
  
  
"You're...coming...home with us...straight away!" Mum informed her between sobs.  
  
  
  
Ginny didn't know how to feel about that. The prospect was strangely attractive. She could go home, and Mum could tell her what to do and when, and she'd never have to think about Tom again...She could be a little girl, something she hadn't been able to do all year. But...if she left, if she didn't have to think about Tom, if she pretended he didn't exist, Ginny would be running away, and she knew it. She wanted to stay, to finish out the school year with her head held high...  
  
  
  
Dad was already shaking his head. "No, Molly," he said gently.   
  
  
  
Mom stiffened indignantly, but Dad put a restraining, reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Ginny made a very dangerous mistake," he said simply, "but it's been taken care of. She's safe now, Molly. She wouldn't be any safer with us than she is with Dumbledore." Mum still looked like she was about to interrupt, but Dad didn't give her the chance. "And I agree with him-she shouldn't be punished for being young and inexperienced enough to have a lapse in judgment. If we leave her here, she's simply another victim. If we don't, people will always wonder why she wasn't here..."  
  
  
  
"She's our daughter, Arthur," Mum snarled at him. "She nearly died."  
  
  
  
"We both love her," Dad said with a warming smile, reaching out to touch Ginny's cheek in a way that melted some of her guilty panic. "Molly...it's best for her."  
  
  
  
"Well, fine," Mum huffed reluctantly, making Ginny feel a little better. "She can come home on the train."  
  
  
  
"Thank you," Ginny said quietly, but the one sentence meant more than she could say.   
  
  
  
Mum and Dad stayed with her, watching her, talking to her, touching her as if to reassure themselves she were really there, until she fell asleep.   
  
  
  
When she opened her eyes the next morning, they were gone. But Ron, Hermione, and Harry were in their place. For her, a universe of emotion swirled in Harry's eyes. Ginny started at the enormity of the response he evoked, and tried to look anywhere other than at Harry. Of course, looking at Hermione was hardly better-Ginny was so relieved to see her alive and unpetrified...and so guilty...and so embarrassed...  
  
  
  
"We were starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up," Ron said. Ginny knew it was his way of saying he'd been worried about her, and was touched. Hermione elbowed him in the side.   
  
  
  
"Ouch!" Ron jumped, rubbing his ribs. "What the--"  
  
  
  
He stopped as Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and glanced toward Ginny. Seeming to catch on, Ron faced her, trying to compose his face. "I mean...you missed quite a feast last night."  
  
  
  
"First time everyone came in pajamas," Harry mumbled awkwardly.   
  
  
  
"Not everyone," Hermione said primly. Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry seemed to be suppressing a snicker. "Madam Pomfrey revived everyone," she confided in a near-whisper, "in time for us to go to the Feast-and we were already dressed."  
  
  
  
"Well, la-de-da," Ron retorted wittily.   
  
  
  
"Uh..." Ginny said, shifting uncomfortably, "Hermione.."  
  
  
  
"Harry told us," Hermione said before she could finish-or even begin, really.   
  
  
  
"I--"  
  
  
  
"It wasn't you," Hermione interjected briskly. "So there's nothing to apologize for."  
  
  
  
"Are you--" Ginny began.   
  
  
  
"Absolutely," Hermione said firmly.   
  
  
  
"I still want to--" Ginny said.  
  
  
  
"Already forgotten," Hermione insisted.   
  
  
  
Ginny sighed.   
  
  
  
"Fred, George, and Percy know, of course," Ron said, looking as if he questioned the necessity of such a course. "But no one else does."  
  
  
  
"But...how did--" Ginny began.   
  
  
  
"He told them it was Dark Magic," Harry said, before she could mention Dumbledore's name.   
  
  
  
"An unfortunate relic planted in the school by an old supporter of You-Know-Who," Hermione explained. "That Harry destroyed."  
  
  
  
It was true...from a certain point of view. Ginny wasn't entirely sure whether or not that point was hers, and suspected she never entirely would be...  
  
  
  
"About that--" she began, feeling even more awkward.  
  
  
  
"Don't mention it," Harry interrupted.   
  
  
  
"Harry--"  
  
  
  
"It's okay, really," he saidhastily.   
  
"Brought you breakfast," said Ron before Ginny could keep trying. He was holding up a very rich-looking éclair and several sausages.   
  
  
  
Ginny laughed.   
  
  
  
"That's not all," Ron said, as if she'd applauded before the end of an act.   
  
  
  
Hermione produced a stack of toast and several slices of bacon.   
  
  
  
"Shouldn't Madam Pomfrey bring me a tray?" Ginny asked, not really caring about the answer.  
  
  
  
"Nah," Ron said carelessly, with a suspiciously Fred-and-George like twinkle in his eye. "We told her not to."  
  
  
  
Ginny snickered.   
  
  
  
"And the piece de resistance," Ron said, with a flourish, looking at Harry.   
  
  
  
Harry handed Ginny the coffee mug she never ate breakfast without. Their fingers touched in the process, and Ginny could feel the shock. She pulled hastily back, and tried to smile as if nothing had happened. "This is much better," she said. "Thanks, you guys."   
  
  
  
"All right," Madam Pomfrey said, bustling into the room. "You've given her your rather unsanitary and unwholesome breakfast and had a visit-now out! This girl needs her rest!"  
  
  
  
The trio allowed themselves to be shooed out, making comical faces for Ginny's benefit the entire time. She had been glad to see them, but she wasn't sorry to see them go...she had a lot to think about ... 


	40. Homecoming

Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power  
  
by Jedi Amoira  
  
This is it, folks! The final chapter--the END! Thanks for seeing it through with me! I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have! Please join me for the first chapter of the sequel--"Ginny Weasley and the Specter of Atonement"--I'm posting simultaneously.  
  
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, and I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!  
  
Author's Notes--  
  
EEDOE--I'm so glad you liked that moment! It's one of my favorites, as well, and probably stems from my own shameless Daddy's Girl status. ;-) (And I'm tickled you Molly sounds like she did when she was lecturing the boys--that's what I was going for.) The line about Harry's eyes is another personal favorite, because I am a hopeless romantic at heart, myself. *sighs and grins* It hasn't occurred to Ginny to wonder about Hermione's sincerity yet, but I'm sure it will...how could it not? I agree with you...Ginny should have been allowed her say, but the others just wanted to make her feel better, and didn't realize talking about it might be the best thing for her. You're absolutely right about the entire group being number one in our book! I hope you don't disappear now we've reached the story's end--I love hearing from you! Until next time... *HUGE HUG*  
  
Bill--*giggles* I love your opening line! Molly was definitely insensitive, which I don't appreciate myself, but as you say, Ginny's lived with her long enough to hear what's really being said. I think you're perfectly right about Ginny's feeling of being...unworthy...of Harry--in my opinion that could play a huge part in the embarrassment factor of her feelings. I'm a little sorry to this end myself, but the sequel definitely has me intrigued...and I love your enthusiasm--it's so great to celebrate with hugs and twirls! *grabs hand and dances around wildly* HURRAH!!! *winks and hugs*  
  
************  
  
Madam Pomfrey made Ginny stay in the infirmary to rest for three days. Ginny tried to protest she didn't want to miss class, but Madam Pomfrey just sniffed and said, "You'll have plenty of time to catch up-exams have been canceled anyway." Staying in bed was like being trapped in the Chamber all over again. It just made Ginny feel more jittery. She tossed and turned a lot, staring longingly out the window, picturing the grounds bathed in bright spring sunshine.  
  
  
  
She had plenty of visits to occupy her time. Fred and George showed up first, carrying a bouquet of spring wildflowers from grounds that made her wonder if they'd read her mind-until they turned her nose a vivid orange-and didn't mention Tom Riddle or his diary once. Percy, on the other hand, wouldn't stop talking about them. When Hermione stopped by with Ron-and Harry-for a second visit, Ginny couldn't help asking if she knew a charm to soundproof her pillow.  
  
  
  
Colin came by, looking-much to Ginny's relief-as if he'd never been petrified, and showed her the pictures he'd taken at the impromptu feast while Ginny wrestled guilt and the urge to confess. She stared at the picture Colin had given her-Harry, Ron, and Hermione, dodging rolls enchanted by the twins-for a long time, trying to reconcile her bitterness at being left out of everything with her relief she hadn't done any permanent damage.  
  
  
  
The reverie might have gone on indefinitely if Bion hadn't popped in to interrupt, accompanied by Luna Lovegood, who seemed more focused than usual, as she kept repeating she'd known all along the culprit wasn't Harry. Ginny liked Luna, but couldn't help being happy to see her leave.   
  
  
  
Lee came with a pair of socks he'd nicked off Percy. "You've got to stop scaring me like this."  
  
  
  
Ginny pulled the socks on with immense satisfaction. "For you, I'll try."  
  
  
  
Lee looked as if her answer wasn't very reassuring. He didn't try to make conversation, but he didn't leave for a long time, which Ginny appreciated. It was nice to have company that didn't expect her to say anything.   
  
  
  
Tempest came towing the rest of their roommates, who stood around awkwardly and kept asking Ginny what had happened to her, and what the Chamber was like. Ginny made noncommittal replies and tried to look like a victim, feeling unaccountably annoyed.   
  
  
  
Finally being allowed to return to classes was a relief that sped the rest of the term immeasurably.   
  
  
  
She headed for the Hogwarts Express without a backward glance.   
  
  
  
"'Ey there, yeh wouldn' be leavin' wi'out sayin' goodbye," Hagrid boomed after her, making her heart stop.   
  
  
  
Ever since she'd woken up in the infirmary, Ginny had been thinking of Hagrid...but she hadn't known how to face him. She didn't know what to say. Suddenly she felt worse than she had since Dumbledore had told her she hadn't done any lasting harm. She tilted her head back, staring up into Hagrid's face, waiting...To her surprise, he bent nearly double so her head was barely at his shoulder, and smiled encouragingly. "Dumbledore told me wha' happened," he whispered conspiratorially, glancing around to be sure no one overheard.   
  
  
  
Ginny swallowed and tried to say something, but Hagrid put a big hand on her shoulder, nearly throwing her off balance, and continued, "We 'ave something in common, you an' me, Ginny Weasley. We both of us framed by Riddle, an' all. Reckon that makes us almos' family, don' you?"  
  
  
  
"I...I...suppose so," Ginny said.   
  
  
  
"Yeh keep in touch now, yeh hear?" Hagrid said. Ginny nodded, scrambling after her scattered thoughts, but Hagrid didn't give her a chance to collect them. "Go on, then, before yeh miss the train."  
  
  
  
Impulsively, Ginny threw her arms around his neck-as far as they would go, anyway-and kissed his check. Hagrid flushed, but as she climbed the steps of the train and looked back over her shoulder at him, Ginny could see his dark eyes beam in the depths of his face.   
  
  
  
"Took you long enough," Ron said impatiently. "Come on, you're with us."  
  
  
  
The ride home was nearly as much fun as Christmas. They played Exploding Snap until they were all covered in soot, at which time the twins produced several leftover fireworks-Hermione forbid them to set fireworks off on the train, the twins scoffed, and suddenly the entire compartment was a riot of disarming spells. By the time they got done disarming one another, no one could remember why they shouldn't set fireworks off on the train, not even Hermione, and the compartment was a shower of red, blue, green and gold sparks that was actually quite pretty.   
  
  
  
"Ginny," Harry said as the last of the sparks died away, "What did you see Percy doing that he didn't want you to tell anyone?"  
  
  
  
Ginny snickered. "Oh," she said, and for some reason, trying to put it into words just made it that much more funny. She was actually a little disappointed the twins hadn't caught on to his reaction when Penelope was attacked. As for her promise, she wasn't the one who'd let it slip she'd seen him doing anything-Percy had himself to thank for that. "That. Well-Percy's got a girlfriend."   
  
  
  
"Ouch! Be careful, you stupid git!" George said, his voice muffled by Fred's books pounding into him. He sounded as if he were cheering a Quidditch team.   
  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
  
"It's that Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater. That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day." Just remembering made her laugh. "He was so upset when she was--" horror welled up in her throat. How could she be talking about Penelope so easily after what she had almost done? "-you know...attacked." She remembered Percy's fear of the twins with a further guilty twinge. "You won't tease him, will you?"  
  
  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it," Fred said with patent insincerity.   
  
  
  
"Definitely not," George chortled.   
  
  
  
The train was slowing to a stop. Ginny felt herself caught up by the twins, and piggy-backed out to meet Mum and Dad, and suddenly realized-she had gone out into the big, dangerous world and survived. She was glad to be going home, but she knew she'd be just as glad to go back again...when the time came. 


End file.
